Meeting Over Music
by my blue castle
Summary: Mary Bennet is tired of playing for dances. While visiting her sister Elizabeth at Pemberley for Christmas, Mary takes to playing a piano during a particularly unbearable ball. What ensues is not what Mary had expected. Chap 16, FINALLY!
1. Chapter 1

Mary stood up from her chair that sat off to the side of her aunt's parlor. Nervously she smoothed her plain gown and walked to the piano forte. Mechanically she played through a lively dance tune that grated mercilessly upon her ears. She gazed at the few dancing couples and frowned. Why was it that she so hated to dance? She wasn't heavy on her feet…in fact her sisters often told her she was graceful enough when they practiced and had need of an extra partner. She shrugged aside her sudden—silly, she thought—thinking and wished hard for the evening to end.

The carriage rocked in the gusts of icy wind in the crisp, purple tinged night. Mary huddled against her father's solid shoulder and settled herself in the warm folds of her blanket. A jolt woke Mary, telling her that they had arrived home. She smiled to herself and nearly ran into the house for warmth. The household settled itself to sleep with only a few outbursts from its mistress.

The next morning, when all of Mary's sisters were awake, Mary sat herself on the worn piano stool. She ran her fingers over the pages of the piano sonata that she'd been gifted on Michaelmas. She laid her fingers on the piano keys and performed the music of her soul. It was a pity no one liked the darker pieces that she was so moved by. Well, except for….

… one month ago Mary had seen encouragement enough to continue her playing. She had been visiting Elizabeth at Pemberley along with her mother and father. Besides the enchanting, rolling lands of the grand house, Mary was most captivated by the piano forte of Georgiana's. It had a rich tone and was tuned just right (the one at home couldn't afford being tuned regularly). Georgiana had given Mary permission to play whenever she wished to. Mary found joy in the prospect of having such an instrument at hand for the next fortnight.

She had been cajoled into attending the Michaelmas ball that her sister was planning. A dressmaker was brought in to clothe Mary in something suitable for a high-society event. The woman was pinched in the face and had sharp eyebrows, and, despite being so imposing, she had a gentle touch that put Mary at ease. A deep red dress was created from the chaotic measuring and the numerous pins. It was really quite lovely, but Mary was uneasy about putting herself into it. It flattered her dark hair and soulful eyes, drawing more attention to her than she wanted.

Once more, Mary found herself sitting on the sidelines of jumping, dancing couples. Though this time she was not unbothered. A spattering of young men came to her side and asked to take a turn with her. Each she refused. Not only because she so hated to dance, but because her dress was cutting her breath off and rubbing uncomfortably at her shoulders. Finding that no one was soliciting her hand or even looking for her, Mary, feeling ignored, slipped out of dancing hall and to a certain magnificent instrument.

She sighed as she sat for the first time in front of the piano forte's grandness. Almost hesitantly, as if she did not want to break them, Mary's fingers flowed over the black and white keys producing a sonata that was played passionately. Why didn't anyone ever appreciate such playing? No one ever sat to just listen to her play, instead they demanded she play flighty music. Never feeling so alone, Mary felt a tear gather at the corner of her eye. As she swiped the wetness away with the back of her hand, the sound of a footfall behind her on the wooden floor reached her ears.

Mary swung around, ready to get up and leave. All thoughts stopped and lay still in her head as she saw the young man standing before her. He stood motionless with his left foot behind him. Breaking his boreal blue eyes from her intense gaze, he looked away, a flush rising up from his cheeks—he looked embarrassed.

"Forgive me." His voice echoed faintly in the silence of the room. When Mary said nothing he cleared his throat and continued, "You probably are angered at my intrusion, but when I hear such music I cannot keep away."

Mary's cheeks became infused with sunset pinks at his words. "Was it so terrible?" she said, almost whispering with timidity.

The young man stepped forward, shaking his black locks emphatically. "No. It was heartfelt and…and beautiful."

"You really think so?" Mary said and looked up at him briefly, her brown eyes flashing with a warm happiness. Her look entranced the young man.

"What is your name?"

"Mary Bennet. I am sister to Mrs. Darcy."

"Yes…I've heard of you. You aren't what I expected."

Mary had thought this man was nothing like those men who had never asked to dance with her or to talk to her. He had seemed interested in her and what she valued most highly—her music. His last words made her heart sink. The young man saw her face fall and her petite shoulders slump. Mary turned to leave but was stopped short when a large, gentle hand took hold of her wrist.

"Please…please don't go. I didn't mean to say that." He saw doubt in Mary's eyes. "What I meant to say was that I had not been told that Mary Bennet was such a wonderful musician, and…."

"And what?" Mary asked. She held her breath and fiddled with the folds of her gown with her free hand.

"And that she was so fine-looking." Both of them blushed and looked away from each other. The chiming of the clock in the parlor jarred the calm in the room. The young man looked up at the woman standing next to him, smelling sweetly of wild flowers. He took her hand to his soft lips, placing them slowly on her knuckles. He let go and smiled at the look of shock and amazement on Mary's face. He bowed and left the room walking backwards, heart warming at the sight of Mary touching her lips….

…Mary flushed at the memory of the encounter. The brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, and, catching sight of the very hand that the young man had kissed, she held her hand to her cheek and sighed contentedly.


	2. Chapter 2

**In paragraph 3 of the previous chapter I mentioned Mary's sisters waking up. I should have said Kitty, as the other three no longer live there. That's all then… :D**

The birth of Elizabeth's child was a quiet affair…except maybe for one place. Mary had been running her fingers through the wild flowers in the back yard, a basket hanging on her elbow. She'd been humming to herself when a sudden shriek rained down like a downpour upon her ears. Her basket left behind to the flighty company of the flowers, Mary ran to the house. She skidded through the back door and came upon a typical scene. Her mother was crying.

"Mama, what is wrong?" she asked, immediately going to Mrs. Bennet's heaving side.

"Wrong…wrong?" Mrs. Bennet took a gasp of air into her lungs and turned upon her daughter with a dazed look in her bulging eyes. "Nothing is wrong…" She patted Mary's head twice and then strolled out of the room, muttering to herself.

Mary frowned, thinking that perhaps her mother had finally decided to make her mind up about being addled in the head. She made her way down the hall towards her father's study.

She spoke to the bent head at the desk. "Is Mother going to be alright?"

"In due time, Mary dear," he replied without taking his eyes from his work. He glanced up when he saw that Mary was still there. He took his eyeglasses off and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"You shouldn't work yourself so hard, Father."

"I must, if I am to leave my family something to live on when I am gone from this earth."

"Don't speak so. It seems Mother is closer to that than you are."

Mr. Bennet snorted and gave a quick smile. "Maybe it's the news that Lizzie is to be a mother come wintertime that has put her into such a state." Hearing the news, Mary gave a shout of delight, clasping her hands together. Her father, looking at her, saw that Mary could be pretty when she was so blissful.

"Your sister suggests that we come visiting, and I believe we shall," Mr. Bennet said. It seemed they would be going to Pemberley again—and it was about time. Three months had passed since their last visit.

Later, when dinner was sitting cozily in the Bennets' stomachs, Mary made an unusual appeal to her father. He was surprised enough after hearing her through that he agreed to loan his daughter what she had so sweetly begged for.

The next day found Mary standing hesitantly at the glass door of the dressmaker's. Kitty was beside her giving her an encouraging smile and a somewhat rough push forward.

"Come in, come in, ladies!" cried a fashionably-gowned lady. She fluttered from the back of the room, resplendent in ruffles. She stepped before the two young woman and folded her hands together.

"Miss Kitty, I am glad to see you back. Looking for a new dancing gown?" the woman asked hopefully.

"Actually, Madame, my sister Mary wishes to purchase a bonnet," Kitty informed the matron.

The woman smiled, and looked at Mary as if she were seeing Mary standing there for the first time. Her eyebrow rose and then she gave a polite smile. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" the woman asked.

"I wish for a lively bonnet, Ma'am," Mary said. She looked past the ruffled woman in front of her to a stand which held several bonnets. She approached them with her head cocked to the side. There were so many! Madame followed closely behind, chattering with Kitty about all the new bonnets that had arrived just that morning.

"Have you chosen one yet, Mary?" Kitty enquired a quarter of an hour later, looking at the plain accessory hanging limply in the tight grasp of her sister's fingers. She pried it away and replaced the offending article with another.

"That will suit you well, Mary. It frames your face so well…" Kitty sighed, pleased at the affect of the bonnet that perched on Mary's dark hair. Mary turned her head side to side as she gazed in a mirror given her by the store owner.

"It is so…not plain," said Mary with distress. She knitted her eyebrows together as she looked desperately for Kitty's input on the matter.

"Of course it's not plain. That's what you're aiming for, anyway."

"It is, it is." Mary couldn't decide if she liked her looks. The bonnet was drawing more attention to her face than ever before and she wondered if she could handle it. She set her shoulders back after much deliberation and purchased the bonnet, giving much pleasure to Madame, who took the money readily, and Kitty, who was eager to get packing for the trip to Derbyshire.

Wearing the bonnet as they rode in the carriage, Mary was glad she had come to her father for the money. She shuddered, remembering her mother's reaction to her new bonnet. Mrs. Bennet had crooned in delight, and she had patted Mary's cheeks happily with her large hands. Sometimes Mary wished she could remain in the shadows forever.

Fitzwilliam Darcy greeted the party gathered at his front door with a cheerful greeting. The news of his impending fatherhood made him impervious to the roughness of his mother-in-law's manners. He showed Mary's parents to their rooms, and Kitty and Mary went up to see their elder sister.

_It's only a small gathering_, Mary told herself, _surely no one will notice if I do not attend_. She had laid her red gown on her silky bedspread and was sitting—rooted—in front of the vanity. She tugged at loose hairs that had sprung from her recently violated hair. A maid had barreled in only moments before and had taken charge right away, combing Mary's locks and twisting them into a semblance of elegance.

Those in attendance all congratulated the Darcy's for the upcoming child. They were all intent on capturing the attentions of Elizabeth and her charming conversation. Those young men who weren't gathered around Georgiana and Kitty were chatting amongst themselves, not really noticing Mary. She found herself looking for a certain pair of blue eyes—they were nowhere to be found. She scowled at herself. Would the young man behind those eyes even remember her?

Mary spent the tea time hanging upon the windows, hungry for the company of trees and boulders to the tedious standing around of doing nothing. Her mind was decided even before she knew it herself. She found her slippered making their way quietly out of the room towards the open veranda that was flooded with the day's light.

Fresh air, mingling with the scent of roses, assailed Mary's small nose as she stepped lightly out of the house. She peeked over her shoulder and strolled out of sight. Mary tore over the lawn, her gown bunched up at the knees and her hair escaping its intricate knot. She ran towards the copse of flowering trees ahead of her. She laughed when she saw that no one had spotted her daring escape. She was finally alone.

Mary wove her way through thin trunks of the trees, wrapping her arms around every them. Her delight in the beauty surrounding her absorbed all her sense: the heavy flower scent, the rustling skirt-like leaves, the bowing branches. What she did not notice was the figure that had followed her from the verandah, slowly making its way behind her—intent only on her.

She was looking at the distant clouds in the sky. They were moving so fast, scudding across the sky as if on important business errands. It was during this meditation that a flower from the tree above her ran down her right arm. She shrugged it off absently and continued in filling her head, for once, with careless thoughts. The branch brushed her neck this time and…it cleared its throat.

Heart in her throat, Mary swung around guiltily, thinking someone had come to fetch her from the house. Instead, a pair of blue eyes danced at her. Instead of leaping dangerously out of its place, Mary's heart skipped a tiny beat and started to dance….


	3. Chapter 3

He was standing before her, a branch clutched in his hand and dangling there like the pendulum of a clock. Mary did not know what to do so she looked down at the thick grass underneath her feet. A tickle on her chin brought her head back up with a snap and she drew away. The young man's hand was retreating along with the branch. Mary gave a shy smile.

"That's more like it, Miss Bennet," he said softly. He flung the branch off to the side and looked expectantly at the young woman before him whose face was infused sweetly with crimson.

Mary fidgeted nervously. She flashed the man a glance and then asked the one question that she had been burning to ask. "Who are you?" It seemed silly asking the question; Mary felt as if she already knew the person standing impishly before her. She'd only met him once, and then it had been only a brief meeting at that. Ever since he had kissed her hand so tenderly, Mary's thoughts for the last three months had strayed in the handsome stranger's direction. She'd be fanning her mother after a nervous fit, and a thought would flit over her mind of the young man standing silently behind her. She would look behind her surreptitiously, imagining him there even though in all probability he wouldn't be there. He never was. But now, standing together—alone—in the secrecy of the trees, he was there.

"I am called Aubrey Wayland, and I am most charmed to make your acquaintance," he said, bowing deeply so that his dark hair flopped into his eyes. To her own surprise, Mary found herself responding by curtsying deeply—though rather clumsily for she was never good at it.

"Now that we have officially introduced ourselves, Miss Bennet," Aubrey said, "might I purpose a walk through the park? It is a rather delightful afternoon."

Almost startled into silence, Mary nodded and then replied, a shade of hesitancy coloring her voice. "Yes," she said breathlessly, "I think a walk is a fine idea."

"Then, shall we?" He gestured in a direction opposite Pemberley and looked to Mary for approval.

"Yes, but not too far, please, Mr. Wayland," Mary said, "it would not be proper."

The two began walking, and as time passed their pace slowed to a leisurely stroll. They had not said one word since they had started, and the silence between them was weighing heavily on Mary. She was not used to the company of the opposite sex, thus her skills in conversing with said gender were somewhat lacking. Mary found herself many times looking over at Aubrey, about to say something, but then deciding against it.

Aubrey caught Mary in one such moment, and he decided to break the silence. "You needn't feel compelled to speak, Miss Bennet. I will talk of myself if you wish."

"Don't feel like you have to, Mr. Wayland. I am sure my company is tedious enough as it is…"

Aubrey paused by a low-hanging branch. "No, your company is superb." He flushed when Mary looked incredulously at him. "Truly, I do not mind your presence. I did, after all, ask you to join me."

After a few more halted words from Mary, the silence that had pervaded their walk once more resumed, though this time more genial and agreeable. Every now and then Aubrey would comment on their surroundings, and Mary would shyly reply.

Mary wondered how she would ever get to know the young man walking beside her without making a fool of herself. She even tripped up her own words at home before her family. Her family. _Oh lord_, Mary thought to herself. One chance meeting with her tactless mother would surely set Aubrey running. How she would hate that!

While walking she was given the chance to gaze liberally at her companion. She was pleased with what she saw…except perhaps for his nose. It was a bit large.

While Mary contemplated the size of his nose, Aubrey was savoring the fact that Mary was there beside him. He had heard from the Darcys how shy she tended to be in front of those she did not know. When he followed her from the house and then drew the tree branch down her pale arm, Aubrey had been expecting Mary to refuse his company. He was broken from his reverie with the sound of Mary's voice.

"…know the Darcys very well?" she was asking, while twirling a lock of her disarrayed hair with her fingers.

"I wouldn't say _very_ well. I met them in Bath last season, and they invited my family to a few dinners before business took us elsewhere. My mother and sister stayed behind, though," replied Aubrey readily. "Are you great friends with Georgiana Darcy?"

"We are becoming close. Why do you ask?" Mary ventured, looking quizzically at him.

"Only that my sister took to her quite well when we were in the Darcys' company. She wrote constantly of her."

"I would too if I was in correspondence with anyone. She has such a sweet air to her that is most refreshing, and it is no mystery to me why she is popular with—with the young men." Mary bit her lip, hoping she wasn't sounding jealous of her dear friend. She truly wasn't, for such attentions on her would make her uncomfortable.

"Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that she is a Darcy?" Mary didn't have an answer to that, so she stayed silent.

Thus their conversation went, each talking safely on the subject of people they knew. And they continued in such a manner until they found themselves back in sight of Pemberley. They stopped reluctantly at a tree, hidden from the sight of the door to the room where everyone was gathered. Both looked at each other: Mary flushing, as she was wont to do lately, and Aubrey half smiling.

"Perhaps I'd better go in first, Mr. Wayland," Mary said.

"Yes…of course." The sound of the birds in the tree above them dominated the quiet, except for Mary's nervous, semi-quiet breathing.

"I thank you for the walk, Mr. Wayland," Mary said.

"I am thrilled that you found pleasure in it, Miss Bennet." Aubrey bowed once more, though this time not so comically and not so deeply, though sincerely enough. With a bobbing curtsy Mary nodded once and turned to go. Aubrey watched as she patted her hair into an impression of neatness, and he admired her trim figure as she delicately made her way to step onto the verandah.

**Thank you to all those who have reviewed. Your comments have helped me, and I hope that you will continue reading my short story. By the way…hint, hint…reviews are so nice… **


	4. Chapter 4

"Mary! For heaven's sake come inside!" A shrill voice rattled Mary from her daydreaming. Mary realized with a start that it was sprinkling, as her gown was partially damp and drops of rain were clinging to her hair.

Shivering, Mary ran up the steps to the back door—and just in time. The clouds let loose with a somewhat gleeful rumble of thunder. Mary knew that she could not go outside anymore that day, and the thought made her want to shut herself up in her room. Mother would no doubt drone on and on about the tea yesterday.

Before she could find her way to her rooms in the intricate halls of Pemberley, Mary was stopped in the hall by the sound of a footstep behind her. Her heart jumped as she turned around with a beaming smile. The butler standing before her widened his eyes in surprise, for he had never seen Miss Bennet looking so pretty nor so pleased.

"Miss Darcy wishes you to visit her in the conservatory, Miss Bennet," the butler droned. He did not know what to make of the now listless face the young woman was wearing on her face. She looked disappointed.

"Thank you," Mary said and she slowly made her way to Georgiana. Why did she expect him to turn up at every corner? Mary shook her head and fingered her brow as she felt a headache coming on.

The conservatory was a place where peace could be found at any time of the day. Sometimes it was so humid that the walls fogged up and dribbles of water raced each other down the panes of glass, leaving snaky trails in their wake. Even before Mary entered into the building she could see only the blur of plants. She skittered across the walk and into the conservatory before her gown became wetter than it was from the now steady rain.

Warm and moist air rushed at Mary as she opened the glass door and stepped inside the jungle within. She breathed in awe, as she tended to do each time she visited the gardener. The greenhouse was in proportion to Pemberley itself, large and deliciously stalked with all varieties of flora. The occasional bird from outside would appear in the air above the growing ferns and plants, some with large leaves and red blossoms, filling every corner and space imaginable.

Mary picked her way around tall shelves crowded with spindly ferns and vibrant colors. "Georgiana?" she called—the girl was nowhere to be seen. Just as the main house, the conservatory was a labyrinth of walkways.

"Over here, Mary," cried Georgiana. Mary followed her voice and found the young woman on her knees tending to some unwanted weeds. She uprooted them with thick gloves on her hands, and such gloves were suddenly being offered to Mary. She found herself on her knees as well, pulling weeds from a large pot of orchids.

"You may be wondering why I have asked for you, Mary." Georgiana gave her sister-in-law a quick glance and then went back to her work, hands practically flying with ease over the offending vegetation.

"You want someone to help you in the greenhouse," replied Mary.

"Not…quite. I wanted to talk you, since you've been so quiet all morning." She flashed yet another dimpled smile and continued. "The weeding is just something to keep us busy. Sometimes talking can be so hard for people, and keeping their hands at work helps to ease the spirit."

"There you go again, staring into deep space." Georgiana's face appeared suddenly, looming close. "Why don't we have some lemonade? I had some brought over for refreshment." She shoved herself up from the ground and walked to a wrought iron table. She poured Mary a glass and handed it over.

Mary downed the cup and blushed as Georgiana laughed. She readily refilled her cup and spoke once more. "What did you think of the gathering yesterday? I thought it most enjoyable. There are so many kind people our age in the neighborhood—you should try and get to know them."

"They'd only laugh at me."

"Laugh? No, indeed they would not. I had several of them throwing question after question about you at me." Georgiana leaned forward, setting her cup aside. "They were very interested in you."

"Then why didn't they speak to me?"

"You went off somewhere. How do you expect people to talk to you if you are not there? Where did you go anyway?"

"I went walking with—with my thoughts." Mary hastily added, " Alone, of course, since no one was inclined to walk with me…"

Georgiana nodded avidly, as if she knew there was more to the walk than was being said. She helped herself to a water biscuit and chewed thoughtfully on it. "And did he enjoy the walk?"

Mary nodded. "Yes, he did, actually. I thought—." She clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes in a groan. She had given herself away. She would have to tell all and prey that Mother would not get wind of the details.

Georgiana grinned mischievously; Mary could practically see her rubbing her hands together with glee. "What did you speak of?"

"Nothing important…you, Elizabeth…"

"Me? How boring!" Georgiana laughed. "You should've talked about each other—a topic more interesting than that of a third party."

"It was the only thing I knew I could talk about."

"Really? I find that hard to believe. You know a surprising amount of things, and I'm sure Mr. Wayland would've enjoyed listening to your sweet voice, all the while gazing adoringly at your ethereal eyes."

"How is it you know—?"

"I watched as you stared out the windows yesterday. I saw a certain young man forever turning his eyes to your figure, boring them into your back as if you were something he'd never seen before. And when I couldn't find either of you I just assumed."

Mary flushed hotly. She placed her cold hands to her cheeks in embarrassment. Georgiana took her hands into hers and gave them a good squeeze. "You needn't get all shy on me, Mary Bennet, or I will have to clobber you…. Did he kiss you?"

And at that moment a beribboned woman flung the doors to the greenhouse open. Startled birds flew in every direction and the plants themselves looked as if they were being blown in a torrent of stormy wind. Mary's mother hurried towards the girls who looked at each other with hidden disappointment. When would they get to talk to each other again?

"Girls, girls! You would never guess what?" Mrs. Bennet gushed, flapping her handkerchief and batting her large eyes in excitement.

"Has something happened, Mother?" Mary stood up, looking worried.

"Yes! No, but it will. Your kind and wonderful brother, Miss Darcy, has invited us to the opera next week." She giggled like a schoolgirl and clasped her hands together.

"Yes, Fitzwilliam told me he might. And from your excitement I believe I can assume you have accepted the invitation?" Georgiana said, standing as well.

"Yes, yes."

"I thought you didn't like the opera, Mother," Mary said with a puzzled air.

"I do! I do, and I always have! And to think I have the opportunity to go once more lightens my heart so…." Mrs. Bennet sighed and left the girls to themselves. They did not know what to do. Mary took Georgiana's arm and they walked together to the house. They felt as if a storm had left as suddenly as it had quit.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The young women of Pemberley were playing whist, and instead of placing bets with money they used ribbons. Mary was learning to play, so she let Georgiana teach her the rules. Mary was a quick learner of the game and after one bout of whist she found herself in the possession of four handsome ribbons. She couldn't help grinning whenever she looked at Kitty, as she had riskily placed her newly bought accessories on the chopping block. Kitty was not a good looser, and to show that she didn't speak to her sister for one hour.

While Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet spoke of things financial, the rest of the household found itself holed up in the parlor either embroidering or resting. A low drone could be heard from above as the rain became heavier and wilder. A flash of lightening caused Mrs. Bennet to jerk from her perch on a settee.

"Oh, Mary," she whined, "be a dear and play us a happy tune. It feels so dark and brooding in here." Mechanically, her daughter rose and approached the piano. She sat down and played her mother's favorite piece, jolly enough to make Mary want to cry. It was with a sudden rebelliousness that Mary played the piece that had drawn Aubrey to her. There was not a sound in the room—even the sound of the rain was dulled by Mary's dancing fingers on the keys of the piano. She didn't need sheet music to play the music of Aubrey's eyes and her thumping heart.

When she was finished she sat still, waiting for her mother to scold her for changing the tune. She heard nothing, so she looked behind her. Mrs. Bennet was sound asleep on her cushions, and Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty were staring at her in surprise. Mary ducked her head in embarrassment.

"Where did you learn to play like that?" Elizabeth asked.

"What do you mean? I have always played this way," Mary replied.

"I have never heard your playing have so much emotion before," Georgiana said. "I wish I had such talent." Mary was shocked; Georgiana was an accomplished pianist. For the second time in her life, Mary found herself willingly basking in compliments.

Elizabeth found herself called away as her child had woken from a nap and was hungry. Kitty wandered off with a half-made bonnet in her hands, looking for something with which to embellish it. Georgiana turned to her sister-in-law with a radiant smile.

"You must play for my birthday, Mary. I would so love you to!" Georgiana exclaimed. She came and sat beside Mary on the piano bench.

"When is your birthday?" Mary asked. She felt slightly guilty for not knowing her friend's day of birth.

"Next week. Fitzwilliam brings us to the opera that day. It was my wish that you join us, and I am glad you are coming."

"Was it your wish for my mother to come?" The words came out of her mouth of their own will, and Mary hated her sudden lack of forethought.

"It was my wish that you all come," Georgiana said carefully. She gave a half smile and stood to leave. "So, will you play for me?"

"Of course I will. I would do anything for you, Georgiana." Mary was surprised at the young woman's reaction. Georgiana threw her arms around Mary and held her tight, tears glistening in her eyes.

"I need no better present in the world than that, sister," Georgiana said. It was at this moment that each girl knew that nothing would ever separate them, and that they would be the closest of friends.

"Not even knowing what went on with my walk?" Mary mused playfully.

"Do you mean to tell me that I will never know?" Georgiana was looking somewhat deflated at the thought.

"I don't know what to tell you, Georgiana. I am under no obligation now."

"Won't you, though? Please?" Georgiana trailed her friend across the room and out the door to the hallway. Mary found it amusing that she could reduce her usually composed sister-in-law into such a groveling mess.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was the night of the opera and Mary was becoming nervous. She had never been to one before, and she didn't know what to expect. It was Elizabeth who put her restless mind to rest. Mary had been pacing her room up and down, up and down, practically making herself dizzy.

Elizabeth had poked her head into Mary's room to check on her and saw she was not even getting ready. "You must get ready now, Mary. You still want to come, right?"

"I do want to, Lizzie, but I am nervous. I can't think straight." Mary flopped onto her bed, frustration clear on her face.

"Let me help you then. At least get up," Elizabeth said. She went to the gown laid out on the bed and ran her fingers over it. "Your gown is very beautiful, Mary."

"It is, and I thank you for giving it to me. I do not deserve such kindness, not after all you have already done for me." Mary stood up and gave a tentative smile to her sister.

"Let me just say that it gives me and Fitzwilliam so much pleasure making you happy. Do not take that from us by belittling yourself."

Mary said nothing and she took the gown to her form, gazing thoughtfully into the mirror before her. Elizabeth stood behind her, her reflection grinning encouragement. It was time to get ready.

An hour before the performance was to begin the Darcy and Bennet party piled itself into two carriages. The Darcys were placed in the first, and the Bennets were given the last. Mary was given the benefit of near silence as her mother began to snore on Mr. Bennet's shoulder. Kitty was nearly jumping out of her skin for she was to be seen by eligible young gentlemen. She too had been given a dress by Elizabeth, and she knew that she looked stunning.

Mary was not sure if she would ever enjoy wearing such finery; she was so unaccustomed to it. The gown was comfortable enough and was the finest thing Mary had ever owned—it was a deep emerald that made her pale skin look like china. Kitty wouldn't tell Mary so, but she secretly wished she looked that well in her own pink.

As if sensing the nearness of the opera house, Mrs. Bennet's eyes flapped open. "Now girls, it is my duty as your mother to tell you to dance with only the wealthy young men."

"What if we don't like any of them?" Kitty queried.

"Then you must still dance with them. I will not have it said my daughters are cheap." Mrs. Bennet huffed at the simplemindedness of her younger daughter. Mary rolled her eyes to herself and hoped her mother would sleep through the entire performance. If so, she wouldn't be able to make such a spectacle of the family as she was wont to do at any social gathering.

The carriage rolled to an abrupt halt, and a few moments later the door opened. Mr. Darcy was there to help Mrs. Bennet and the Miss Bennets out. Georgiana joined her two friends as they stepped onto the cobblestone that paved the drive before the opera house. Many people were arriving as well, each gingerly walking around the occasional horse patty towards the main doors.

Once inside, Mary was hit with the splendor of the lobby. The carpet was thick and beautifully painted with roses, and the walls were covered in gold paper which glistened in the light, creating a yellow glow over everyone. Kitty gaped at the sight of so many handsome gentlemen and at all the gorgeous gowns worn by the women of high society in Derbyshire.

"Aren't you glad that I finally convinced you to choose that color?" Georgiana whispered to Mary. "No one else is wearing such a color—you will surely stand out now." Mary sighed heavily at the thought and earned a glare from her mother.

Mr. Darcy led everyone to the private box that was especially reserved for his family. Mary looked down at the seats on the ground floor and watched the people milling about. She took out her opera glasses, placing them discreetly on her eyes, and searched.

"The opera hasn't started yet," Elizabeth said, laughing. "You need not use those just yet…unless you have spotted someone we know. Might it be the Kingstons?" She took out her own pair of glasses and gazed down below.

"Have you spotted them, Lizzie?" Mr. Darcy asked his wife as he came to her side at the railing.

"No," Elizabeth said, "though they usually arrive late. I will go now and search for them."

Georgiana stopped her with her fan. "Not now. It is beginning." The lights were dimmed and the stage lit up as the red plush curtains were drawn back. Mary was immediately sucked into the tale of a woman and her lost love. The music was dramatic enough, but not so much that she did not grow bored of the lady lamenting for half an hour about her lover's disappearance.

As she had been so tempted to do, Mary took her opera glasses to the crowd. She was amused to find that more than half of the men in attendance were sitting with their arms folded and their eyes either drooping or closed shut. She even saw some young women her own age doing as she did. Once she caught the gaze of a blonde girl, who immediately moved her glasses aside and smiled with a small wave. Mary nearly fell off her seat in surprise, and she hesitantly returned the stranger's greeting. The opera was not so bad after all.

During intermission, Mary, Kitty and Georgiana made their way to a refreshments table set out with red grapefruit punch and tiny fruit tarts. It was at the table that Mary found him. He had his back to her and was filling his cup with a ladle from the punch. He took one sip and, finding the punch to his liking, he poured himself some more.

Aubrey's name became stuck in her throat as she attempted to greet him from behind. She set her shoulders and stepped to his side and reached for a cup. She filled it slowly, while at the same time glancing to her right to see if he would recognize her.

"Excuse me, sir, but I believe the cherry tarts to be recommended over the apple." Mary was astounded at her boldness, and by the time Aubrey's gaze swung to her face she had gone pink.

Aubrey stared at the young woman beside him in surprise. He had not expected to see her there, nor had he thought she would be the one startling him for once. "Miss Bennet…I thank you for the advice."

"You're welcome, Mr. Wayland." Mary licked her lips as if she were about to say something, but then she decided against it and reached for another tart. She smiled shyly and then made her way back to Georgiana's side. She could feel Aubrey's gaze on her as she walked away, so she chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. He was still staring at her, his blue eyes boring (as Georgiana had so put it) into her back.

Georgiana over and whispered in Mary's ear, "That was well done, Mary. You'll be on his mind for certain now."

"What did I do?" Mary was confused. She ran her fingers lightly over her hair and tucked a stray curl back into its pins. The two girls had reentered the box and sat next to each other at the far end. They leaned their heads together.

"He said but one thing, and no doubt tarts were not what he wished to converse about," Georgiana quickly whispered, and she whipped out her fan. "Heavens, I wish a young man as handsome as he would look at me like that."

At those words the second half of the opera commenced, and the world around Mary was once again filled the rich voices of the singers. It was not soon when Mary took her eyes to the audience again. She searched high and lo for Aubrey, who was no doubt somewhere in the balcony seats. He was.

Mary drew the glasses from her eyes for a moment, pressing fingertips to her cheeks to cool them down. Aubrey was looking at her as well. He smiled and gave her a short bow. She nodded her head in return. Aubrey was pointing at the stage, telling Mary to get back to watching the performance. She nodded and gestured for him to go to sleep. She saw his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter and her insides warmed at the thought. She looked at him only three more times before the opera ended. The last time was to try and identify the young woman at his side.

"Georgiana," Mary asked, as they exited the private box, "who was that young woman with Mr. Wayland?"

"His sister—I'm sure of it. I remember her from Bath. I did not know she was to be in town now. I do believe I will send her an invitation tomorrow."

"And invitation to what?"

"I am to have a birthday celebration. It is there that you will play for me, Mary, do not forget." Georgiana gave a few greetings to people she knew in the crowd of people who were leaving the lobby.

"Yes, yes. I will not forget. His sister, you say? She is very beautiful." Mary spotted her near a potted fern, but her brother was nowhere in sight. In the time between then and leaving, Mary saw nothing of Aubrey's blue eyes and dark curls. Mary nearly felt like crying. Why did she care so much about Aubrey?

**Sorry for the long update, and I hope you will be pleased with my longer chapter. Blame school and work for the long delay. I have to say that I do not own the characters from Pride and Prejudice, though I wish did own them. Thanks to all my reviewers, you make my life so happy!**


	5. Chapter 5

Mary sat on a foot bridge situated over a slow, gurgling stream. She dabbled her bare feet in the cool waters, seeking refreshment from the noonday sun. Her head was bent, locks clinging to her neck in a haphazard chignon, over _Paradise Lost_. The epic poem lay abandoned on her lap, resting in the valley of skirt that molded about her legs. She couldn't seem to pay attention.

Instead of dwelling on detailed descriptions of the land of Satan, Mary's thoughts settled upon a fairer subject. Whilst her mind traveled the contours of Aubrey's face and his unruly hair, the sun beat down upon her upturned face as she lay back on the planks of wood she sat upon. Her bonnet lay crumpled in the grass a few feet away.

Mary sat up with a start, sending her book into the waters below—someone was calling her name. With a cry she shoved herself off the edge of the bridge, and into the brook, up to her calves in water. Her fingers scrabbled desperately among rocks and skittering fish, trying to catch hold of the edges of her book. It was wedged in a crevice, and she worked it loose quickly.

Georgiana found Mary in the grass with a dripping book and a dress that looked dreadfully damp. "I was calling for you, Mary", she said.

"Yes…I heard you," Mary replied somewhat dejectedly. "I was reading, and I guess I dozed off. I dropped it in the water." She held up _Paradise Lost_ with careful fingers; it was wrinkled and the binding was working loose.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Georgiana cried out. She touched the wet cover and the edges of the pages—they was as damp as Mary.

"You needn't apologize. It was my fault—and it's ruined!" Mary surprised Georgiana with a sudden tear that trickled down her cheek.

"Fitzwilliam can get you another, Mary dear. No need to worry over it. I'm sure I saw a copy of the book in the library."

"There's a problem, though, for this _is_ the one from the library."

"It won't be hard to replace." Georgiana dismissed the matter with a quick wave of her hand. "Now you must come along, for you haven't much time to get ready." She grabbed Mary's hand and dragged her back in the direction of Pemberley.

Whatever Mary asked Georgiana went unanswered. The two young girls arrived at the house and entered through a backdoor, practically scrambling up the stairs to Mary's room. Georgiana entered her sister's room and then immediately began searching—frantically, it seemed—through the closet, drawers and dressers.

"Have you gone mad, Georgiana?" Mary asked. She was still gasping from the long run, and had found a comfortable spot on her bed—on her back with her head on a particularly comfortable pillow. Her eyelids began to close against her will.

"Now is not the time to be sleeping," Georgiana said. She yanked on the hem of Mary's sodden dress. "Put this one." She threw a pale green dress at the girl sprawled on the bed before her.

"What for?" Mary was holding the gown in her hands looking puzzled.

"We have guests—company! We are wanted downstairs, and when I called for you and heard no answer I nearly panicked." Georgiana gave Mary an exasperated look. "You shouldn't go roaming around without telling anyone where you are. I spent a quarter of an hour calling for you, and I am surprised my throat is not raw."

Mary had the decency to look abashed, her eyelashes lowered upon her cheeks. How was she to know that today was the one day that company would come calling so early?

"Who is it that has arrived?" Mary asked, as she was assisted in buttoning up her dress with Georgiana's trembling hands.

"The Waylands!" said Georgiana, eliciting from Mary a gasp. She felt as if her heart had dropped to the floor. Aubrey was at Pemberley. She found she could not move, and she stood in the middle of the room, unable to think properly. Georgiana on the other hand was whirling about the room like a scarf in the wind; she grabbed a brush and made as if she were going to brush Mary's hair. Georgiana gasped and turned her sister's head towards the light. She hissed in sympathy, shaking her head a few times.

Mary crinkled her nose is confusion…and then she realized what was wrong. Even before she appeared before the mirror she knew her nose was sunburned. She touched it gingerly, and was relieved the pain was not too bad. "At least it is not badly burned, Georgiana."

"Yes, I suppose…why didn't you wear your bonnet? We wouldn't be having this problem if you had remembered!" Georgiana observed, all the while starting to sound more frantic. Mary was alarmed—she'd never seen her sister in such a state. While Georgiana clucked and ran an ivory brush through her rumpled hair, Mary had an idea. She opened drawer after drawer in her vanity until she found what she was looking for. Mary opened the container and pulled out a puff, touching it to her nose every now and then. By the time Georgiana was done brushing Mary's hair, her nose was half as red—still noticeable, but not so severe a crimson.

"What a fine idea, Mary," Georgiana cried when she saw the work Mary had done. "Not much can be done with this hair of yours. I'll just have to coronet it—you don't mind, do you?" Mary nodded her assent and in five minutes she was ready.

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Mary found herself sitting on a settee with Georgiana in parlor room, which glowed with the sun's dancing beams. Sitting across the room was Aubrey, his mother and father, and his sister, Olivia. Mary felt self-conscious sitting so near the young woman. She was even more beautiful than Georgiana, with hair as dark as Aubrey's and eyes a deeper shade than her brother's. Miss Wayland's calculating eyes never ceased in their movement, always looking out the windows, at the paintings on the walls, at her brother and Georgiana, and at Mary.

Mr. Darcy was holding an animated conversation with Aubrey and his father on the other side of the room. Every now and then they would laugh, keeping the room from falling into complete silence.

"And how long do you intend on residing in Derbyshire?" Elizabeth asked. She was holding her child on her lap, while Mrs. Wayland crooned beside it. She tickled the infant's socked feet with her fingertips.

"Mr. Wayland and I have been so long without Lakewood, so we feel the need to stay for quite some time…perhaps to autumn?" Mrs. Wayland looked over to her husband, who nodded his assent. His wife flashed a relieved smile at Elizabeth and continued admiring the babe sitting before her.

"Have you kept with you piano lessons, Georgiana?" Olivia asked. She did not know what to think of Mary, who sat directly in front of her. Her nose and cheeks were a touch red and her hair was done old-fashionably. Georgiana, on the other hand, was the complete opposite—smoothed hair and the ever popular pale complexion.

"Not as I should, Olivia," Georgiana said, making a playful grimace, "though I try to keep up."

"It can't be _too_ hard," Olivia stated, spreading her fan out and fanning herself lazily. "But then you always try to challenge yourself with near impossible sonatas—always trying to outdo us all." Georgiana grinned impishly, taking a sip of a cooled tisane.

"And do you play much, Miss Bennet?" wondered Olivia. She turned to face the younger woman who at the moment was trying to find something to wipe dripping tisane from her cup. Olivia leaned forward and offered her her handkerchief.

"Oh, thank you," Mary said shyly. She glowed—partly from embarrassment and partly from her sunburn—red. She had been sipping from her cup, concentrating on trying not to spill when she had happened to capture the blue eyes from across the room. It was then that the disaster ensued, and Mary was glad for the distraction. She could hardly think straight when her heart kept falling from her chest to her feet each time she found Aubrey's eyes pointed in her direction. She was a jumble of nerves.

"I was glad to be of assistance, Miss Bennet," Olivia said. "And do _you_ play the piano?"

"Yes, a little…" Mary's voice trailed off as the pastry held between her fingertips crumbled in half and onto her lap. She gave a tight smile and went to work on cleaning herself up.

"Mary is overly modest when it comes to her abilities concerning the pianoforte, Olivia. She has a natural talent," said Georgiana.

"Really? Coming from you, that is something. Perhaps you might play something, Miss Bennet?" Mary turned three shades of red as she was suddenly the target of all the eyes in the room. She could see Elizabeth nodding in encouragement. Her eyes searched for Aubrey's, and, in the three seconds that they looked at each other, he winked. Mary stopped herself from fainting. Had Aubrey winked at her? Her heart raced at the thought and she placed a trembling hand over her heart to still it. She felt the whole room could see the beating of her heart, so she turned from them to the pianoforte where, in a way, she was alone.

Mary played a quick piece. It was one of her favorite pieces, and those in the room listening to her play could see it. She had a sweet smile on her face and her fingers looked like running water, bobbing up and down and slithering side to side over the instrument.

Fortunately the rest of the Bennet family was absent visiting an old friend of Mrs. Bennet's just a half hour away. Fortunately, for Mary did not have to writhe in shame at her mother's endless attempts to recommend herself to anyone of good birth and significant wealth.

Olivia was impressed, and she said as much. She asked Mary to call her Olivia, and told Georgiana that perhaps she would soon be overtaken as the most accomplished pianist in the Darcy family. The girls laughed quietly over tidbits of gossip, and Mary found that the banality of the chitchat she had so loathed before was now warming up to her. Not that she spoke much, but listening to the other two young women speak so eloquently made her wish she had the skill to talk so with ease.

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It was after a unanimous decision that food needed to be eaten that a picnic was agreed upon. Mr. Darcy ordered for open carriages to be readied and baskets to be prepared. The party split into twos: the married couples in one carriage and the younger adults in the other. It was a merry party that set off for the rolling hills of Derbyshire just fifteen minutes away.

By some maneuvering, Georgiana had made it that Aubrey sat beside her sister. Olivia sent her friend a quizzical look, only to be more confused by the returning grin returned to her. Those fifteen minutes were the longest in Mary's life, and the shortest in Aubrey's. Each time the carriage jostled, Aubrey's knee would rub against Mary's. She could only imagine what shade of red her face was. Mary kept silent the entire way to the hills. The carriage rolled to a stop behind the other, which was already empty of its passengers and the baskets that had been latched to the back. Mary stood as she waited to exit the carriage, watching as Mrs. Wayland shook out a large white blanket with the help of her comical husband. So _that _was where Aubrey got his humor from!

Someone cleared their throat, causing Mary to look down in surprise. There stood Aubrey with his hand stretched out. She readily held her gloved hand out and he grasped it eagerly. Mary did not move to step from the carriage right away. Instead she just stood there, holding Aubrey's wonderful hand in hers, marveling at how tiny her hand was compared to his. A smile tugged at his lips as he watched the breeze tangle itself in the escaping curls underneath her simple bonnet. And it was that bonnet that was suddenly snatched by the sneaky wind off of her head and down a ways until it fell lightly to the grass.

Mary cried out in delight as Aubrey took off running, chasing the wind and the bonnet that it held tightly in its grasp. By the time Aubrey had caught the rogue article, Mary was standing with Georgiana and Olivia, holding onto each other as they laughed at his antics.

Aubrey strutted over in mock victory to the girls. He stopped gravely before Mary, clicking his heels and wiping a smile from his face. "I believe you dropped this, Miss Bennet."

Mary was by now done laughing, though her cheeks were still pink from the exertion. Aubrey admired the healthy glow that emanated from her cheeks. She took the proffered bonnet, practically whispering in reply, "Thank you." She attempted to place it back on her head, but was stopped by a pair of firm hands. She glanced back to see Olivia behind her, flashing a calculating glance.

The picnic was already set out, and Mary and Olivia joined the rest of the party, ready to dig into the plethora of sandwiches and other delicious foods spread out on blankets.

…………………………………………………………………...

After eating their fill it was time for dessert. Everyone went off on their own with bowls to be filled with any wild berries that could be found on the hillside. At first Mary set off with Georgiana and Olivia, but then she meandered off. She found delight in open air and the domed sky above her. She forgot all time and picked to her heart's content of the fruits of several bushes. She was sitting on a small boulder contemplating the shapes of the clouds when she was startled by a touch on her head.

"Is it tied down?" Aubrey asked of Mary's bonnet. She looked at him with rounded eyes, and she nodded.

"Yes, and any wind that tries to steal it from me will find it hard to take it from me this time," replied Mary. She reached into her bowl for something to do. Her fingers latched onto a large berry and she offered it to Aubrey. He took it and popped it into his mouth, swallowing quickly.

"No, not like that, Mr. Wayland! You must savor nature's delights," Mary said. She handed him a few more, watching carefully to make sure he took measure of the sweetness of the berries.

"I must say, these _are_ sweeter when I don't gobble them down like some wild creature," Aubrey said. He reached into her bowl for another at the same time as she did. Their fingers brushed, and each of them paused, their eyes jerking towards each other. Aubrey gently took hold of Mary's hand and turned it over in his, looking intently at the berry stains on her palm. He found the largest berry and set it in the middle of her palm. Mary placed it in her mouth carefully, and she smiled after she swallowed.

Aubrey felt his heart pick up speed as he watched Mary turn to pick more berries. She was so small and so unlike any of the other young woman he'd met. She was just as taciturn as Olivia's friends were talkative. She was no great beauty, but her soft eyes and softer smile entranced him from the moment he had seen her at the ball. He had watched her discreetly as she sat in her chair, and he had followed her when she escaped the confines of the ballroom.

Both of them turned towards the sound of Olivia's voice calling them. As they walked back to the others, Aubrey turned Mary towards him. He took his hand a brushed a curl away from her eyes, feeling her eyelashes bat against his skin. His heart nearly stopped when his eyes glanced towards her lips. They were slightly dry from the heat of the day, and Aubrey was so tempted—. He turned away with a regretful smile when he saw that his sister approached. She was telling them that they were about to leave, and wouldn't it be awful to be left behind and have to walk all the way back? Aubrey did not think so.

**Sorry for the long delay, again! Also, I apologize for any grammar errors, as it is 3:30 am. R&R please!!! Maybe I'll update faster if you do :D**


	6. Chapter 6

Mary had woken herself early to catch the sun's first beams in a morning walk, just when the air was crisp and fog curled upwards from the dewy grass. As she arrived back at Pemberley, she glimpsed Georgiana in her window, waving at her. She returned the gesture and entered through a back door. Up a crooked, narrow staircase that was hidden near the kitchens, Mary climbed to the second level of the house and into her room.

An hour later, Mary was idly fingering the keys of the pianoforte as she waited for everyone to get ready for the morning service. She could here the breakfast dishes being cleared away down the hall, and the sound of scurrying feet upstairs was getting louder and louder. Kitty suddenly rushed into the room, her face frantic as she clutched two dresses in her hands.

"I know you don't like me asking you this, but which should I wear?" cried Kitty. She twisted her face in deep contemplation as she looked at each dress.

"I hardly see the problem, Kitty," Mary began, "as we are only going to church."

"Please, Mary!"

"Well, I suppose…." Mary stood up and went to her sister. She fingered the material of each dress and weighed the colors in her mind. It was an easy decision.

"Neither. Wear that blue one you never use."

"That one? But Lydia always tells me blue doesn't suit my complexion."

"Maybe she knows it isn't so…" Mary wondered aloud, raising her eyebrows knowingly. Kitty glowered at the thought and ran back up to her room, emerging fifteen minutes later in her blue dress, looking very fetching and somewhat calmer.

…………………………………………………………………..

The Darcy and Bennet families arrived at the chapel within the hour. It was as if everyone had planned to arrive at the same time. When they entered into the chapel, which had a refreshing, cool interior that contrasted with the heightening of the sun, Mary observed many people milling about. Several young women came up to Georgiana with numerous greetings and belated birthday wishes. They immediately enquired into when her celebration was to be and who was to be invited. Georgiana did not reveal much, to the great disappointment of the gaggle of young women before her.

On the arrival of the clergyman at his pulpit, the pews were filled and silence trickled slowly into the room. The sermon seemed to deliberately put Mary to sleep. The words rolled off her ears as water does on the feathers of a duck. She couldn't concentrate at all, and she was puzzled. Usually she was able to listen with great attention to any sermon she heard, but not this time. It was probably due to the lack of sleep she had gotten the night before.

…………………………………………………………………..

Never had Mary been so glad to get out of a church. She covered a yawn with her bible, and she glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. It didn't seem like it, so she allowed herself one more. She wasn't too tired now, as the brightness of the sun and the warming of the day loosened her tired eyes. While she was undoing the tight bonnet ribbons around her neck she spotted Aubrey coming towards. She hurriedly tried to tie them back before he arrived, but she succeeded only in tying her fingers up.

Aubrey was grinning by the time he came over. "Good morning, Miss Bennet."

"H-hello, Mr. Wayland. Forgive me, but I feel my bonnet is making a fool of me." She gave an uneasy smile.

"Not for the first time, Miss Bennet," replied Aubrey. He laughed gently, leaning forward slightly and covering his eyes from the sun. Mary giggled as she remembered the picnic.

"I have yet to put a whip to it, Sir."

"Or maybe you should just forgo bonnets altogether, Miss Bennet," Aubrey said.

"Georgiana would have a fainting fit. I couldn't." Mary found herself laughing again as Aubrey made a face. She would never be able to put a bonnet on for the rest of her youth without thinking of him…and of those wonderful eyes of his. She could feel her heart starting to pick up.

"What would the world come to?" he asked.

From the corner of her eye Mary spotted an approaching storm in the guise of her curious mother, who was making her way towards them with surprising speed. Mary began to panic. She had been dreading the very moment when her mother would set eyes on Aubrey.

Mary found herself trying to tell Aubrey of the lack of tact that her mother possessed, but was unable to even open her mouth in time. As her mother spoke, Mary found herself gaping like a fish. She shut her mouth immediately.

"Mary, I was looking for you. We are getting ready to leave for Pemberley," Mrs. Bennet said. She looked sideways at Aubrey. "Oh, I did not see you there." Her eyes flickered to her daughter meaningfully.

"Mother, I believe you have not yet met Mr. Wayland." She reluctantly lifted her eyes to Aubrey's face. She wondered what was going through his mind.

"Mr. Wayland? Ah yes, I believe I heard my son-in-law—_Mr. Darcy_—mention your family to me. You will be attending his sister's party on the morrow?" Mrs. Bennet asked, preening. She looked at the young man before her with avid eyes, taking in the strange fact that someone of the opposite sex was paying her plain, awkward daughter any attention at all. Kitty is surely prettier, Mrs. Bennet thought.

"Yes, we received our invitation a few days ago. My sister is delighted to—," Aubrey began to say.

"Wonderful! I am always so delighted to meet any of my daughter's friends…and her suitors," replied Mrs. Bennet, raising a knowing eyebrow and grinning in a way that was supposed to be appealing, but turning instead to look as if she were in pain. Mary froze, her face paling underneath her sun-touched skin. Aubrey's cheeks held an entirely different shade. In fact, he looked a little pained.

"And how did you find the sermon?" Mrs. Bennet asked Aubrey.

"It was entirely to my liking, Mrs. Bennet. And might I saw how enchanted I am with meeting you." He bowed once. "I see my sister beckoning me. I will see you tomorrow, I hope. Goodbye, Miss Bennet." He bowed again, carefully avoiding Mary's eyes, and was gone. Mary did not know quite what to feel.

She inwardly groaned as her mother began to chatter incessantly into her ear. She tightened her bonnet, hoping to shut out the death sentence that was pervading her hearing. Would Aubrey _ever_ talk to her again?

She thought of the incident as she sat herself in the carriage. She remembered how her family had been the very thing that pushed Mr. Darcy from her sister in the beginning of their acquaintance. Would Aubrey be able to ignore her foolish mother? She thought of it when she was sitting to luncheon with everyone.

It was on her mind as she took a stroll in the park, where she tried to clear her mind but found she couldn't. She was ruminating over the episode as she walked alongside the drive that eventually pointed in the direction of Pemberley. She held a fistful of wildflowers, and she wistfully watched them go limp. Her head jerked up as she heard a horse approaching. They were coming from Pemberley.

Her face went beet red when she saw who it was. Aubrey had seen her and he reigned in his horse. Pausing for a moment—as if he were contemplating talking to the aversion before him, Mary thought—he then dismounted. He slowly made his way towards Mary, who, increasingly in her mind, was deciding whether or not to flee. She looked about her and found there was no way.

"Miss Bennet!" he called as he approached. Mary looked down at the ground and prodded at some dead leaves with her shoes.

"I come just now from Pemberley," he said. "My sister and I arrived an hour ago. We thought we should give Miss Darcy our gift before everyone else does."

"And where is your sister now?" Mary asked.

"She stayed behind, actually. She wanted to talk with you and Georgiana, but you were nowhere to be found." That's because I was hiding, thought Mary.

Mary gave a wry laugh. "It seems always to be like that."

"Are you well, Miss Bennet?" Aubrey asked. He heard something lacking in her voice and was worried.

"As well as can be…" began Mary. She began to turn herself away, as if she was leaving, but she paused. "I am sure you remember meeting my mother this morning."

Aubrey colored. "Yes, I do recall meeting her."

"And what did you think of her?" asked Mary. She looked expectantly at him, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of shame at the misfortune of her mother.

"Well…" he began. He did not know what to say. Her mother had certainly surprised him, and Mary seemed to be very ashamed of what was said.

"Never mind," Mary said. "I know already what you shall say."

"And what would that be?" Aubrey wondered where Mary was going with this.

"You were going to say how my mother lacks discretion, and that I am entertaining hopes that are futile." Mary surprised herself by feeling tears gathering in her eyes. Aubrey looked at her in surprise. For once, Mary had made him speechless. Futile hopes? He took a step closer to Mary, who was nearly beside herself with tears.

"Are you truly well, Miss Bennet?" he asked. Mary looked up at him with wet eyes. She nodded, looking away in embarrassment.

"I will leave now, for I would not like to keep your sister waiting." She turned and began to walk back down the way he had come. He was puzzled. Did she really think that because she had a silly mother that he would admire her any less? He went after her.

She heard him behind her and she stopped short. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, trying to make herself somewhat presentable. She had not thought he'd come back.

"Have I done something to offend you, Mary?" he asked quietly as he came to stand beside her. He did not look at her but at the trees rustling in front of them.

Mary looked at him in surprise. Had _he_ done anything wrong? "No!" she cried. She looked over at him.

"Then why do you act so cold towards me? Is it because of this morning?"

"My mother has never been very good with keeping her thoughts to herself. I had thought you would…well, I don't know—that you would somehow think I was like that."

"What I do know is that you are completely sensible," said Aubrey. "Surely there is more than one girl who finds something at fault with their mother's tact."

"Do you know of one such girl? Do you, or are you saying that?"

"I would not tell you untruths."

"I know that…Aubrey." It was her turn to flush. She averted her eyes from his intense gaze.

"Would you forget about it then?" Mary nodded rapidly, setting her bonnet loose from her head. She muttered in annoyance as she untied it and crushed it in her hand. Aubrey say her suddenly grin in amusement.

"Silly bonnet," she said. They both smiled at each other. All was well. While Mary disposed of the crumpled flowers in her hand, Aubrey mulled over something.

Just as the flowers fell from her fingers her hand was taken hostage. Her heart stalled one second, and then resumed its rapid tattoo in her breast. The hand was attached to the right arm of Aubrey. He was looking at her with a serious gaze that was directed only at her. She swallowed hard as she took a tentative few steps towards him. Their noses were only an inch apart as each of them hesitated. Mary's mouth became dry at the thought of what was going to happen.

"Mary…" breathed the young man before her. An eternity passed as she lowered her eyelids to awaken herself to the feel of his soft lips pressing on her…lips! She had never been kissed before and she panicked, turning her face just slightly—and enough that it caught Aubrey off guard, sending his nose to collide with hers. Laughter erupted from him as he saw the look in Mary's eyes—it was as if she were being sent to the guillotine. He stopped laughing.

Mary was beyond words and utterly mortified. Was he laughing at _her_? She was surprised when Aubrey took hold of her hands again, leaning forward once again. Fate was prodding fun at the two as Aubrey missed her mouth, landing a kiss on the corner of her lips. He turned his face away and laughed at himself.

"Lord, cannot I even kiss you without making a fool of myself?" he wondered aloud. Mary gave a half smile, and, catching him unawares, she placed her soft, half-dry lips upon his. It was her turn to step away, her cheeks afire with a furious blush. Aubrey stepped forward again and returned the favor, sending a shiver down Mary's spine as his lips moved against hers.

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke them apart, and they skittered away from each other. Olivia was on her horse, just feet off to the side, amusement clearly sketched in her blue eyes as she saw her brother and her little friend looking frantically at her. Both were different shades of red, and she thought perhaps she should not have made her presence known.

"We did not hear you, Olivia," Aubrey said, his voice colored with embarrassment and a pinch of displeasure.

"I noticed. I was just leaving because it seemed Miss Bennet was never going to appear. I now know why." Olivia grinned at their discomfort. Her horse snorted, eager to get going on the long ride back to Lakewood.

"I suppose I will come with you," her brother said. Olivia had sense enough to get a head start.

When she was out of earshot, Aubrey spoke. "I am sorry for that."

"Do not trouble yourself, Aubrey," Mary said. She bent to pick up the bonnet that had fallen from her hand. She brushed it off and hesitated in leaving.

"You will be at the party?" she asked, wanting to be reassured that her mother had not chased him away…yet.

"Of course I will. Olivia tells me you will play a sonata."

Mary nodded. "Yes. I am rather nervous though…playing in front of so many people."

"You will do well." Aubrey smiled at her as he mounted his horse. He ran a hand through his tousled hair. "And do forgive me, Mary."

"Whatever for?" called out Mary.

"For taking so long to kiss you!" replied Aubrey. He waved and rode off, looking back just once. Mary was standing—rooted in place—her emotions painted plainly upon her cheeks. How ever will I get through the party tomorrow, Mary thought, with him in the room? She felt anxious, and drew aside her thoughts as she dwelt upon what had just happened. Had he actually kissed her?

**One word—sorry. I suck at updating…I admit it. You have my permission to scold me. Thinks are getting interesting, eh? Review if you like my little story or if you wish to upbraid me. I deserve it.**


	7. Chapter 7

Monday morning found Mary helping with preparations for the party. Kitty had proposed a walk in which they would go to pick some flowers for decoration. She skittered ahead of Mary and Georgiana as she excitedly looked for the largest, prettiest flowers. "You know, we could just have gone to the conservatory," said Georgiana suddenly.

"Yes, I suppose…but there is more delight to be had in the open air, and with such delicious wind as this who would say no to such a stroll?" Mary said. She smiled brightly and bent to pick a deep red flower, setting it gently in the basket that hung on the crook of her elbow.

So it was under the happy gaze of the clouds that they picked flora. The wind had that feeling of the last days of winter, where trees are on the verge of budding and the sun shines strongly. It tore at the girls' skirts as they bent every now and then, sometimes shouting suddenly at the discovery of a much loved bloom. When their baskets were full they sat down to rest and to weave garlands.

"Goodness! I've broken yet another stem," cried out Kitty.

"Do be careful, Kitty," Mary said, "for I'm sure we've picked all the flowers within a two mile radius of Pemberley."

"I can't help it! My fingers are not as nimble as yours are. The both of you play the piano, so you've the advantage," Kitty pointed out. She cried out again and tossed a flower off to the side. Her basket was nearly empty. She reached to snatch a few from Mary and was stopped by her sister's hand.

"You shall not have all my flowers, Kitty, for you will ruin them just as you did yours. Go pick some more if you wish," Mary said. Georgiana lent Kitty some, but refused when her sister-in-law broke nearly all of them. Kitty left in a huff, swinging her basket in exaggerated fury.

The two remaining young women were left to weave garlands. Georgiana glanced repeatedly—meaningfully—at Mary. When she saw Kitty far off and away from earshot she made her move. "Olivia did so want to see you yesterday after church, but you were nowhere to be found." She saw Mary's fingers still for a second and then they continued their dance with the flowers.

"I am sorry that I missed her."

"Yes, she is quite a wonderful girl. We had so much fun talking yesterday…." Georgiana looked sideways at Mary. "We got to talking about you."

"Really?" Mary looked up, puzzled. "Why?"

"Oh…no reason really…actually, it was about you and a certain young gentleman we both know."

"Do you mean Au—Mr. Wayland?"

"Oh yes, we talked for a quarter of an hour about her brother. But, we talked also of Olivia's cousin."

"Her cousin?"

"Yes, second cousin, actually. He has been away in London and will have arrived at Lakewood already—early this morning, I believe. I have extended an invitation to the party for him." Georgiana jerked suddenly. A winged insect had chosen to buzz in her ear. She swatted at it with the tip of her shawl.

"And what is his profession?"

"He's a lawyer, if I remember correctly." Georgiana chewed her lip thoughtfully.

"Has he a name?"

"No, actually they just call him You, and when they need him they just snap their fingers in his direction." Georgiana grinned mischievously. Mary tossed a pebble at her friend, laughing. "His real name is Miles Aldridge."

Kitty flounced back with her basket filled once more. Georgiana and Mary had finished with their flowers, so they leaned over and helped Kitty to perfect her garlanding skills. After many frustrating tries, the younger woman was able to make three garlands before they had to get back to the house.

While they walked back to Pemberley, Mary tried to glean information from Georgiana about her talk with Olivia the other day. "You said they you spoke of me…what about?"

"What do you think, Mary?" Georgiana raised her eyebrows knowingly. Mary colored. "We spoke of how annoying the both of you are."

Mary stopped short in surprise, nearly tripping over a protruding tree root. "Annoying? What other bad things did you say?"

"It wasn't bad. We just voiced our opinions on how slow you are both to realize that you are in love with each other. You skirt around each other, stuttering and blushing like mad—and there you go, blushing again!"

"I can't help it! Lord, how many times I wished the misfortunate coloring away."

Mary ventured a glance at Georgiana as she continued on about the silliness of her and Aubrey. "I talked to him yesterday."

"Yes, I saw. You mother interrupted rather conveniently, though, didn't she?" Georgiana gave a half laugh and ran her long fingers along the garlands in her basket. "These will look so lovely draped over the curtains."

Kitty heard what Georgiana said and she wheeled around. "You will not be draping mine on the curtains, Georgiana. I won't have such disgraceful garlands displayed to the critical eyes of everyone invited. They will look yours and sigh at their loveliness, and when they see mine they will cringe."

"Surely they would not!" Georgiana laughed.

"Oh, indeed they would!" Kitty stopped before the other two, gesticulating wildly. "They will remember the party as the one where that Bennet girl hung her ill-made garlands on the curtains for all the world to see." She giggled along with her sisters and she skipped ahead to pick more flowers for the vases to be displayed. Mary was left to her thoughts—dangerous ones at that, for they tended to drift to Aubrey's wondrous lips. She could not help but touch her fingers to her mouth, asking herself if she—the plain and awkward Bennet—had actually been kissed. How surprised her sisters would be if they found out.

…………………………………………..

One hour remained until the guests were to arrive. Mary was pacing in front of her mirror, tugging at the neckline of her peach silk gown. "Can this be any lower?"

"Talking to yourself?" Georgiana wandered into Mary's door already dressed, but with her hair yet to be done.

"No," Mary said. She took one look in the mirror and turned to her friend. "Is not this a bit _low_?"

"Of course not, Mary. You just aren't used to wearing such a dress. That is nothing compared to what some of the young women will be wearing this evening, so you needn't worry." Georgiana bounced onto the bed and grinned. "I am positively excited."

Mary's maid came in to dress her hair, so she sat down and was _under the knife_ for a quarter of an hour. "Are you sure you want me to play? I get so nervous in front of people."

"You do not! Fitzwilliam told me you played a lot when he was at Netherfield." Georgiana sighed when Mary turned away from the looking glass to look at her sister-in-law; Mary looked so very elegant.

"Yes, well, it's different now."

"Different as in…Mr. Wayland and his family will be here to listen to you." Georgiana got up and kneeled at Mary's feet. She rested her chin on her knees and looked up, grinning. "I don't see why playing for them will be so hard."

"But it will be!" Mary paused and then breathed in deeply, as if to muster up enough courage to tell of yesterday. "I tried to inform you about when Aubrey and I talked on Sunday, but you misunderstood me. I meant to say that we spoke while Olivia was visiting."

Georgiana sat up and clasped her hands together. "You did? And what did you converse about?"

"We didn't actually talk about much," Mary began, getting up from her chair and going red in the face. Before she could say anymore, Elizabeth popped her head into the door and announced that guests would be arriving soon. Georgiana gave a squeal and ran to her room to finish with her hair.

…………………………………………..

Georgiana greeted the guests as they arrived. Lady Catherine de Bourgh was one of the first to arrive with her daughter and Mrs. Jenkins in tow. She greeted Elizabeth coolly and swept into one of the nearest chairs. She sat there as people trickled in, gazing upon them with her hooded eyes, judging. Mary peeked at Lady Catherine and shivered. She had forgotten the old lady had been invited. Surely she would find fault with her playing tonight. The evening was looking to be a long one.

The Waylands were one of the last families to arrive. They came in laughing, for they had been delayed by a crossing of sheep on the road. Aubrey was as fine-looking as ever, and it seemed that he had fought a battle with his hair and won, for it was tamed and brushed back—at least temporarily. Beside him stood a young man, which Mary assumed was the cousin. Her heart began to thump wildly as Aubrey and his sister made their way towards her with Miles trailing behind.

"Miss Bennet, I believe you have not yet met our cousin, Miles," Aubrey said. Mary held out her gloved hand and Miles bowed over it deeply.

"Enchanted," Miles said, hiis eyes sparkling as he straightened himself up. "I have heard so many fine things spoken of you from Olivia that I feel as if we are friends already."

"I have heard nothing of you, Mr. Aldridge," Mary said. She grinned when Miles and the others laughed.

"I wonder if I might fetch you a refreshment, Miss Bennet?" asked Miles. Mary nodded mutely and she watched as wove his way to the other side of the room to the punch table.

"So what do you think of my cousin, Mary?" Olivia asked.

"He is polite," Mary replied. Olivia laughed and watched as Miles eagerly made his way back to them. He had two glasses in hand, and he gave one to Olivia and the other to Mary. He and Aubrey bantered back and forth about the summers they had spent together at Lakewood. Mary found the glimpse into Aubrey's childhood very entertaining, and she could have listened to it all evening if the dancing had not interrupted.

They could hear someone beginning to play a violin in the dancing room down the hall, and everyone began to trickle in that direction. Mary wondered if she was going to sit on a chair all evening, or if Aubrey was going to ask her to dance. She looked at him many times as the room began to clear out, leaving the few people who were less inclined to dance. Lady Catherine was one of them. She now stood, monopolizing the attentions of Elizabeth, strangely enough. Mary could hear snatches of their conversation, which centered on the wrinkled state of the draperies and of her daughter who was feeling most ill. Mr. Darcy was asked to escort the poor creature to a chair so that she might watch the dancers and feel sorry for herself. Mary looked on in pity.

She began to follow the girl that she might talk with her, but a hand on her elbow stopped her. Aubrey bowed quickly before her. "Would you do me the greatest honor ever bestowed upon a man and dance with me, Miss Bennet?"

"I am not sure," began Mary jokingly. Aubrey grabbed her hand and gently pulled her to the ever increasing sound of the music. Young couples were already at work, jumping and clapping hands. Mary and Aubrey found a spot in the dance and joined in. She never had so much fun dancing in her life. Mary thought she could forever tap her shoes on the floor and gaze into the sapphires that were Aubrey's eyes. Alas, the dance ended and before he had the chance to ask again, Miles appeared.

Aubrey was being eaten alive with jealousy. He saw the way his cousin's eyes gleamed when he looked at Mary. And she didn't seem to mind it one bit. She looked handsomer than he'd ever seen her, with her hair held back and a few tendrils loose on her neck.

"Doesn't Mary look elegant tonight?" Olivia asked as she stood with her brother. He nodded glumly and took a long sip of his punch.

"I wish she wouldn't dance so much with Miles."

"It has only been two dances!" cried Olivia. "Besides, she probably wants to dance with you more."

"And how is it that you know this?" wondered Aubrey. He gave a weak smile to that old woman, Lady Catherine, as she walked towards them.

"Georgiana tells me that she was finding it hard to get ready this evening—all nervous and such, especially since she'll have to play the piano in front of you."

"She's done it before. I don't see what the problem is."

"The problem is yesterday. When you two," began Olivia with a whisper, "_kissed_."

Aubrey groaned. "Lord, I wish you had not seen that. I will never hear the end of it." Georgiana was standing nearby and heard the hushed whispers of her friends. She widened her eyes and quickly made her excuses to the young man she was speaking with. While Lady Catherine latched onto Aubrey and brought him to meet her daughter, Olivia and Georgiana had a little talk.

…………………………………………..

Mary was catching her breath at the punch bowl when Georgiana practically flew into her. "Forgive me, Mary, but why didn't you tell that Aubrey kissed you?"

Mary choked on her punch. Georgiana patted her back gently and took a handkerchief out to wipe her friend's watering eyes. "Sorry about that," she said. "I heard from Olivia."

Mary gave a weak smile. "Yes, she…um…interrupted us."

"What I wonder is that you kept it a secret for so long."

"I meant to tell you, really I did," Mary said, "but someone I never was able to….You don't think it was very improper of me, do you?"

"No!" cried Georgiana as quietly as possible. She grabbed hold of Mary's hands and gave them a squeeze. "I will not think you the worse for it. In fact, I think it the most adorable thing ever. It was high time you two did something about this business." Georgiana giggled. She caught sight of Aubrey approaching, and she swept back a few rogue hairs behind Mary's ears. She smiled impishly and floated away in a rustle of white silk.

"Hello," Aubrey said as he reached Mary's side.

"Hello."

Aubrey could not help but look at her mouth as she spoke of the wonderful music. She mesmerized him so, and he was properly startled when she asked him to dance. He readily accepted, and this time he followed her. She stood before him with twinkling eyes and color high upon her cheeks. She danced like a dream, with graceful twists and hand gestures. It was as if the strains of music in the room were fading out and all he could hear was the sweet breath of the young woman clasping his hands with hers.

**NOTE: Sorry, again. The ****party**** is not ever just yet, so look for more about Georgiana's ****celebration in the upcoming chapter**** (and I mean it! It will be soon!). Thanks again to m****y ****wondrous readers****—you are all my muses.**


	8. Chapter 8

**NOTE: Hello again. Umm…I am not completely sure if peopl****e danced, then ate, and then listened to music****, but that's what I aim to write--I am no expert in the Regency era. Enjoy. Oh yes, I do not own Miss Austen's characters, and she does not own my Aubrey and his family. :)**

……………………………………………..

It was halfway through the main course, and Mary decided to attempt a conversation with Miss de Bourgh, for she was looking so bored. Mary realized the young woman had probably been to so many parties that the novelty of them was worn away like wind upon sandstone.

Mary was cutting into her roasted duck, fork and knife scraping on the plate. She glanced over when she heard a long and drawn out sigh to her right. "Is not this duck tremendously delicious?" she ventured.

Miss de Bourgh swiveled her head to Mary, surprised that someone was actually talking to her. "The duck? Yes, yes…I suppose it is." She bobbed her head shyly and became engrossed in her bread roll.

"And bread? Have you an obsession with it as I do?" Mary grimaced inwardly, wondering if she was coming off as bothersome. To Mary's delight, the girl suddenly leaned towards her as if she were imparting a secret with hushed and whispered words.

"It is not bread that enthralls me, but strawberry sorbet."

"Truly? I have never tasted it before."

"Oh you must!"—leaning closer still—"I have on good authority that such a sorbet will be served for dessert tonight."

"Then I shall join you in its professed sweetness."

"Tell me," Miss de Bourgh asked, "are you Mrs. Darcy's sister Kitty or her sister Mary?"

"I am Mary. Kitty sits there beside your mother." Both girls watched as Kitty scowled into her glass while Lady Catherine chomped on her own serving of the herbed, steaming duck. Kitty rested her elbows on the table for but one moment and the old woman slapped them off.

Mary could not but help giggle at the sight. She caught herself when she remembered who it was that she sat next to. "Do forgive me, Miss de Bourgh, but Kitty can be such a trial at times."

"It is fine. My mother tends to be a bit…over kind…. Please, call me Anne."

The meal proceeded smoothly—the dinner plates were taken away skillfully, so much so that Mary did not realize hers was gone until a glass of sorbet was placed before her. She shared a look with Anne, who waited to see what her new friend thought of the dessert. Mary took a spoonful and placed it upon her tongue, delighted when the cool treat melted and filled her mouth with the sweet sensation of strawberries.

"This is very fine, Anne."

"It may very well become your new obsession." Anne gave an impish smile, surprising Mary. Anne had always been reclusive and silent when in company of others, and the girl before her now was different. Perhaps the idea of having a friend just as shy as herself prodded her to make steps to ensure that a friendship would be probable between them. "I heard from Mrs. Darcy that you will be playing the piano for us this evening. I must say that I was intrigued for I had not heard there was such a protégée on your side of the family."

"I would not call myself that, but I am the musician in the family."

"You are being modest, to be sure. I have heard from Georgiana that you play well, and that is something—seeing as she is so proficient herself." Anne paused to lick the last of her sorbet from her spoon. "And what piece will you astound us with?"

"I am very drawn to _Quasi una fantasia_1. I hope everyone will be able to see that the piano is a form of art, not just for entertainment and dancing music."

"Isn't that Beethoven's work?"

"Yes, it is. Have you heard it before?"

"I recently listened to a musician play it in Bath—very powerful." Anne gave Mary an encouraging pat on the arm and then she fell to the wiles of the ratafia biscuits placed on the large tray in the center of the table.

Dinner was soon to end, and Mary found the blood in her veins quickening at the thought of playing before so many affluent people. Last time she had done so was at Netherfield when she was overeager and in a state of jumbled nerves that rivaled those of her mother's. This night, though, she forbade herself to sing, hoping she could spare her family at least one humiliation. She found herself looking over to where Aubrey sat just a few seats down, and, thankfully, it was nowhere near her mother.

Anne attended to the young woman's high color that sat beside her. She followed Mary's gaze to Aubrey and instantly knew why she colored. The young man was raising his glass to her surreptitiously and with a grin that would make any witch melt. Anne felt a pang in her chest and she attributed it to her weak heart, not to the fact that she was just a bit envious of the good fortune of Mary—a girl who was no remarkable looker but had charm nonetheless.

…………………………………………..

As the table was being cleared of its plates and guests, Aubrey skirted around the clusters of young people and matchmaking matrons to Mary. He found her in quiet contemplation of the handkerchief in her hand, which she crumpled and un-crumpled as thoughts sped through her head. She was looking a little pale.

"You are looking faint, Mary," Aubrey observed. Mary turned slowly and attempted a smile—it came out like a grimace of pain.

"I do not think I can play, for my stomach is a jumble of butterflies—no, elephants trying to do ballet."

Aubrey did not know what to say. He had never been asked to play before anyone, and glad was he for his skills were very juvenile and not attended to. "Why don't you pretend that no one is in the room?"

"It is harder than you think, Aubrey. I've tried to do that before but it is difficult—."

Aubrey took hold of her hands and gave them a cheering squeeze. "Do what you do best, Mary, and all will be well. Don't think of what you might mess up on, but on what you can impress everyone with. I believe you will do very well tonight."

"Truly? I will try, but if I fail I shall blame you." Mary gave an arced smile and slowly let go of his hands.

…………………………………………..

Aubrey could hardly stand it; his cousin was turning the blasted pages. His own fingers itched to take hold of the pages and turn them, whilst his eyes could have the pleasure of beholding the young creature for the length of all three movements of the haunting sonata.

"I hope you won't be challenging our cousin to a duel, Aubrey," Olivia whispered as she took note of her brother's clenched hands. She patted them and immediately they relaxed.

"You know I wouldn't do that," Aubrey replied. "I just can't believe Georgiana let him do it."

"She was going to ask you, but he came up to her and how could she refuse? He's so handsome…"

"Don't rub it in, Sister, or I shall have to tickle you to death when we get home." Olivia shut her mouth quickly, for she had been the victim of many an attack of such tickles when she was a child. She didn't want to suffer through them again.

Something hit the back of Aubrey's shoe and he glanced down at the lacy fan splayed at his feet. A quick tap on his shoulder turned him around. He was looking at Lady Catherine whose eyes held a scheming glance that didn't bode well for him. "Be a good young man and fetch my daughter's fan for her. She dropped it underneath your chair."

He reached down and picked it up. As he handed it to Miss de Bourgh, Lady Catherine said, "You know, my daughter so appreciates piano music. Should she have had a tutor when she was younger, she would play so very well. It is quite a pity that she is so _delicate_."

"I have heard playing music is just as enjoyable as listening to someone perform." Anne was looking pained, and she gave him an apologetic smile. He understood her very well.

"I am not so sure of that. Miss Bennet is good, I grant you, but her style is too _masculine_. On the other hand, Anne here would have played music suited to a genteel woman's constitution." She gave an almost predatory smile and then leaned back, seeming to be satisfied. Aubrey shuddered as he imagined sharp teeth sprouting from her mouth, ready to snatch him and eat him for lunch. Mary was well into the second movement by this time, and Aubrey hoped he would not miss anymore of her performance with the interruptions of old women.

…………………………………………...

Mary could feel a bead of sweat running down her back as she played the last page. She felt warm and the smell of Miles sandalwood cologne was giving her a slight headache. She chanced a glance into the audience only to find Aubrey scowling. Thankfully she was on the last bar, or she would have lost concentration by thinking about what was bothering him. Could it be her playing?

Mary gave a wobbly curtsy as she stood, lowering her eyes from the gazes of the clapping guests. Except for a missed note or two in the last movement, Mary felt her performance had been flawless. Judging from the kind looks and smiles, she had done well.

"Thank you, Mary," Georgiana said as she came up to her sister-in-law. "Your gift was most beautiful." She added for Mary's ear only: "And it was my favorite as well." Mary smiled widely and gave her friend an impulsive hug. She took her seat and watched as Georgiana sat down before the piano, lifting her fingers for a performance of their own.

…………………………………………...

Georgiana was tied up with guests leaving and wishing her many happy birthdays to come. Mary hung behind her, taking the presents handed to Georgiana and placing them on the table next to her. Though Georgiana had not asked for any, her young friends flooded her with tiny boxes and some rather odd shaped objects wrapped in finely decorated papers.

"Let me get that for you, Miss Bennet," Miles said, taking a large gift from her startled hands.

"Thank you, Mr. Aldridge." He soon situated himself and took to handling all the gifts which, by then, were beginning to dwindle. Nearly everyone had left already, and those who straggled had already given their presents earlier in the week.

"You play very finely, Miss Bennet—on the piano, I mean," said Miles.

"I thank you for assisting me." Miles seemed pleased with himself, nodding and smiling. Mary did not know what else to say, for she was eager to speak with Aubrey.

"If I might steal Mary from you, cousin," Aubrey said, appearing suddenly and taking Mary by the elbow. Miles looked startled and something akin to anger flashed in his eyes. He took a step forward, but was stopped when Georgiana handed him another box. She asked him something and he reluctantly answered.

"That was rude of you, Aubrey," Mary chided as the young man dragged her to a nearby window where no one was standing. She did not want to admit it, but Aubrey had saved her the trouble of making her excuses to Miles—which she was sure would have been very weak indeed.

"He's my cousin…he'll understand. I just wanted to talk with you and congratulate you on a brilliant performance. I could not have done better myself."

"You don't even play, Aubrey," Mary cried.

"Exactly…I suppose I was being modest in my effusions concerning your talent." He took her fan and spread it out.

While Aubrey fanned himself, Mary asked, "Why were you scowling?"

"I wasn't. I'm just enjoying the sweet breeze from you little fan here. You know Lady Catherine—."

"I am referring to the look you had plastered on your face while I was playing. Have you a headache?"

Aubrey stopped his hand's motions and put the fan back into the soft hands of the girl who had been tormenting it with her plucking fingers. "Just a small one—probably from Lady Catherine trying to charm me."

"You should drink a glass of cool punch, then. I will get you one." Mary practically floated away to the fountain that spilled waterfalls of flavored water. Aubrey watched fondly as she fumbled with a cup and dropped it into the punch.

"I am glad that I chose to come this evening instead of resting at Lakewood, for I had a good time. I am getting a little tired now, though," said Miles as he approached his cousin with a cup in hand and a tart in his other.

Aubrey gave a tight smile. "Did you enjoy turning pages for Mary?"

"Is that Miss Bennet's name? How pretty it is." Miles downed his cup and shoved the last bit of pastry past his eager lips. "And yes, it was very nice. She smells like some kind of fruit…can't quite put a name to it…"

"It's violets, Miles."

"Now that I think of it, violets do come to mind."

Mary came back and handed a cup to Aubrey who, with great relish and a quick glance thrown at Miles, took a sip. "Ahh most delicious. Thank you, Mary." She was pleased and missed the look the two young men gave each other.

"Your mother and sister grow tired, Aubrey," Georgiana said when she came over to them once everyone but the Waylands had left. "They wish to leave now. Thank you so much for coming, and I hope you rest well, gentlemen, for my brother has announced a picnic for tomorrow. I will be trying out my new kite."

"I love kites, Georgiana, but I fear I forgot to pack mine when we came here," Mary joked.

"You can borrow one of mine for I have plenty."

Before Mary could be dragged off by her friend, Aubrey took her gloved right hand and brought it to his lips. He smiled to himself when he felt the pulse of her blood pick up speed in her wrist. "Good night, Mary."

……………………………………………

The whole party was gathered again on the hill that they had been to not so long ago. A layer of blankets was spread out and decorated with large sun shades and baskets emptied of sandwiches and cakes left over from the day before. Mr. and Mrs. Wayland, along with Mr. Darcy and Mary's parents, sat conversing with each other.

The young people were gathered together trying to put their kites in flight. Georgiana was excitedly securing the kite which her brother had given her. Mary stood beside her with her own borrowed one.

"It has been so long since I've done this that I feel quite the child," cried Elizabeth to her husband, who strolled over to join the group.

"You are not that old, Mrs. Darcy," said he. "I, on the other hand, used one such contraption last year on Georgie's birthday. You were not yet born, I think." Elizabeth giggled and smoothed back the hair on his forehead before getting back to work. Mary smothered a grin by turning round and accidently sending it to Miles who happened to be looking at her. She froze. He was coming her way.

"Do you need any assistance, Miss Bennet?" he asked.

"No!—no thank you, but Aubrey helped me already."

"Are there any kites left?"

"Two I believe, Mr. Aldridge," replied Mary. A sudden gust of wind sent her bonnet ribbons flying into her face. She pushed them away and grabbed her contraption. Now would be good time to set if off, she said to herself, trying to distance herself from Miles. He seemed to be following her every step. She saw that he was inclined to go after her and she sent a beseeching look to Olivia.

"Miles!" Olivia cried out, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to her. "Would you help me? I fear I have never tried my hand at this sport and I feel this thing will never catch the wind. Have I done everything alright?"

Everyone who had a kite ready waited for another strong wind to come their way upon the hill. They had gone up higher than the last picnic, hoping to catch the winds as they blew through Derbyshire. Mary had difficulty getting her kite to fly, so Aubrey assisted her. Once it took flight he handed it back, brushing fingers with Mary. She thanked him with a warm smile.

Mary tilted her head up as far as it would go, her eyes traveling with the kite as it jiggled and swam through the wind. She found herself laughing each time it took a dip, jerking her hands every which way.

"Mary! Watch out!" Mary looked up as Olivia yelped—their kites were heading for a collision.

"What do I do? Aubrey!" she cried out.

"Reel it in! Give it less rope!" Aubrey shouted over to her from the blankets, where he was busy eating another ratafia biscuit and watching her run about like a little girl. She nodded and followed his instructions, barely removing her kite from Olivia's in time. They both laughed together and decided that was enough for them. When they came back to the blankets holding hands and chattering with each other Aubrey came to a realization. He loved her more than he had thought he did—strong enough to want to marry her.

With this realization he moved to sit beside her. She took her bonnet off and turned her face to the sun, freckles not being anything worrisome for her. Aubrey liked hers, for they were like cinnamon sprinkled onto a cookie…delectable. He grabbed her bonnet and twirled the ribbons with his finger. Thinking no one was watching, he brought the article to his nose and took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of warm violets. He looked up to see his mother looking at him with a knowing smile.

……………………………………………...

1—_Quasi una fantasia _is known by the more popular title, the Moonlight Sonata. It got the name when Ludwig Rellstab (a German critic), in 1836, wrote that the piece reminded him of the moonlight that reflected off of Lake Lucerne—thus the unofficial title, the Moonlight Sonata. I got this info from: http://classicalmusic. 


	9. Chapter 9

_Tick-tock.__Tick-tock.__Tick-tock._Mary drummed her fingers on the windowpane, blowing fringes of hair from her eyes. The time-piece in the hallway was chanting—the only noise in the room besides the persistent rain sounding on the glass. She sighed heavily and went back to her writing table where a blank parchment sat unattended. She frowned. She was by no means forced to write to Lydia, but her conscience demanded it. Her letters were never answered, but Mary hoped that one day Lydia would actually sit and read one. Then perhaps she'd see sense enough to remember her loving mother. Mary stifled yet another yawn and gave an apologetic glance at the paper. Perhaps a tiny nap would clear her mind.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Mary sat up with a start. The room was dark except for the moonlight cutting through the open draperies. She furrowed her brow and gave it a rub. Had she really slept the day through? She removed herself from the bed and went to her window. Her heart startled when she saw someone out on the lawn. They gave a wave and gestured for her to come to them. With a benumbed head Mary crept through her bedroom door and padded down the hall. The grandfather clock read twelve. Everyone must be asleep already, Mary told herself faintly. She found herself at the front door. The stairs behind her loomed, a dark mass of marble.

Mary stumbled through the garden with only the moon to guide her. She moved as if some unseen hand were pushing her forward. Somehow she came to where her window overlooked the flowers. 'Hello?' she asked the shadows. They wavered at her and something materialized, walking out of them. It was Aubrey. 'What are you doing here?'

'You told me to come here,' he said as he took a step toward her. Mary looked sideways at him and took a step forward as well.

'Did I? I don't remember doing that...' Mary gasped as he took her arm by the wrist. He pushed the sleeve of her robe up and placed his cool lips upon her skin, running them up slowly—tenderly. Mary shuddered and found herself leaning towards him.

'Aubrey...' she breathed. He looked up. Mary gave a cry and stepped back, nearly falling. Miles looked at her with penetrating eyes, lips parted—breathing harshly. She didn't know what to say or how to react. What was he doing here? She shook her head and briskly walked off. She had to talk to Georgiana. From behind came his hand, grabbing hers and pulling. She turned to scold him and saw his mouth. It was open and growing, ready to consume her. She screamed when Miles suddenly broke into a million pieces, turning into a cacophony of beating, painful rain.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Mary's eyes flew open. She stood before the window where rain still danced on the other side of the glass. She saw that it was still daytime; she'd been sleeping for seventeen minutes. She placed her hand upon her beating heart, a blush spreading over her face like the rising sun upon the Derbyshire hills. Why had she dreamt about Miles? She shuddered and sat at her desk with the hope that writing an unwanted letter would calm her drumming veins.

"I wonder when Olivia will get here," Georgiana said to Mary during lunch. She happily spread rhubarb jam on a muffin.

"Aubrey said late afternoon, I think," Mr. Darcy said, lifting his head from its previous burrowing before a newspaper. He gave a smile to Mary and she crouched over her cup of cold tea. Mr. Darcy noticed her quietness and wondered at it. It was not that she was ever loud and talkative like her sisters, but she didn't seem herself. She'd been like it all morning. From the time she had emerged from her rooms with her droopy, sleepy eyes, to the time she had dragged herself to the lunch table as if someone was forcing her. Elizabeth had noticed it too, remarking upon it after lunch.

"Maybe we stayed up too late last night," Elizabeth said to her husband. They watched as Mary and Georgiana started their habitual walk through the garden.

"I think not, Lizzie," Mr. Darcy replied. "Perhaps she had an argument with Aubrey?"

"I hope not!" cried Elizabeth. "Such things are so unpleasant... I don't remember them having words at all. I am curious as to what it is that has set her in such an odd mood."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I...what a dream!" Georgiana exclaimed. She and Mary had taken a seat on some low-lying branches of a tree. Mary squirmed uncomfortably beside her friend.

"I have no idea what the nature of that dream was. It was so eerie, for I had lain down on my bed and when I woke up I was before the window, touching the glass with my hand."

Georgiana felt a chill run down her spine and goose bumps ran up her arms. "Perhaps, some part of you is attracted to Miles?"

"No!" cried Mary, shaking her head vehemently. "Miles is just someone who won't stop following me wherever I go."

"He likes you, Mary. There is nothing wrong with it."

"There is! I don't like him like that. And when he turned pages for me? What right had he? He didn't even know me, and besides, Aubrey had told me he wished to turn pages for me."

"No need to glare at me like that. It's not my fault. How could I do such a rude thing—turning his request down?"

"You knew my wishes, Georgiana."

"It could not be helped," Georgiana said. She was getting frustrated. "Just because you had a dream where you were kissed by Miles, doesn't mean you can get bothersome about it."

"How will I ever act in his presence?" Mary asked. Her eyes were wild with embarrassment. Her hands flew to her face when she saw who was approaching them. She flung herself about and walked in the opposite direction.

"What?" Georgiana asked. She looked towards the house. There, walking slowly towards them, was Aubrey, his sister...and Miles. She couldn't help but laugh.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The group walked amongst the blossoming trees. Aubrey meditated upon the way Mary's lips turned upwards at the corners, the way how what little sunlight there was played upon her eyes and the way her hair dangled upon her shoulders. He swallowed hard, and after some contemplation he had an idea. He reached up and grabbed a branch, snapping it off with a twist of his fingers. A waft of summer drifted into his nose and he realized how like Mary it smelled. He put the branch behind his back and hurried to catch up with Mary. He reached forward with the branch and drew it down her arm. She jumped higher than he thought her able to, and she spun around with a strange look in her eyes. Aubrey felt a stab at his heart and he stepped back. He missed the way that her eyes softened when they fell upon him. He was consumed with envy at the fact that Mary had been enjoying her conversation with Miles.

He had misunderstood the look, for Mary had thought that Miles had taken her and was ready to run passionate kisses upon her. Miles was oblivious to the stiffness of the charming girl beside him. He kept talking about the horses he had trained back at his father's stables. He did not notice how little Mary spoke to him, and when she did it was with as few words as possible. Mary was terribly uncomfortable with flashes of her dream running before her eyes. She wished that it was Aubrey walking beside her. She missed the way their arms sometimes brushed up against each other, sending warmth up her arm and to her cheeks. She looked behind her to invite Aubrey over with her eyes but he was not there. She stopped short.

"Where's Aubrey?" she asked of her sister-in-law."He went back to the house. He remembered he had something he had meant to tell Mr. Darcy, but forgot to say when we came here--some kind of business," Olivia said. Mary nodded and went after him. Miles looked surprised and somewhat offended. Surely his conversation was not that boring?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

She could see him ahead of her. He was passing the copse of trees where they had officially begun their acquaintance. He slowed to a stop and sat with his back against the trunk. Mary approached him cautiously. His head turned at the sound of footsteps behind him. "Weren't you going to talk with Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes, in fact, I already did," said Aubrey gruffly.

"I don't believe you. You didn't even walk into the house."

Aubrey sat up in surprise. "You followed me?"

"Of course I did..." Mary colored. To cover her embarrassment she lowered himself by him, curling her fingers around her knees.

"Did you want something?" asked Aubrey suspiciously.

"I just wanted to know why you left. It wasn't very nice, you know."

"Not very nice? No one was talking with me. Why should I have stayed?"Mary was surprised at how annoyed with her he sounded. "You abandoned me to your cousin. It was terrible."

With those words came hope in Aubrey's heart. Did Mary not like his cousin as he had thought? "How so...?"

"I mean no offense to a relative of yours, but he never stops droning on and on about his horses."

The comical expression on her face made him laugh, and without thought he leaned over and pressed Mary to him in a hug. She gave a tiny yelp of surprise and was immediately warmed by his closeness. His breath drew shivers across her cheek, and Mary realized they were too close. She pushed away with a nervous giggle, catching a glimpse of his face—happy to see it was not Miles there beside her. Aubrey sighed and rubbed his hand on his neck, looking slightly abashed. "Sorry."

"It is fine, Aubrey," Mary said quietly. "Not again, okay?"

Aubrey nodded his head quickly. "You know, I thought for a moment that you liked Miles more than me."

"You thought...?" Mary realized that Aubrey had been jealous. She smiled inwardly at the thought, hugging it to her heart and wriggling in excitement—never had she imagined that someone would be jealous over her.

"You're jealous," she said. Aubrey shook his head no.

"I am not!" he denied. "Jealous? I think not!" He scoffed and stood up. He strode away back to the house. Mary got up and tripped after him, her heart lighter than it had been that morning. He was resentful of her and Miles! The very idea of an attachment between her and that young man was nigh impossible, seeing as she was so attached to Aubrey.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

They had been at the assembly for over an hour, and Aubrey was beside himself with frustration. Each moment he tried to tell Mary how much he loved her someone came to interrupt them. First it was, of course, Miles. After it was made clear to him by his cousin that he was not wanted, he steered clear of them. The second time it was Darcy who had a rather hilarious joke to tell his friend, but it could not fall upon the ears of a young lady so they had to part. As he was walking back, Lady Catherine swooped down on him and latched her claws into his upper arm. Wincing, he was led to the silent Miss de Bourgh who sat conversing with a bored Mrs. Jenkins. Aubrey listened to Lady Catherine prattle on about how fortunate her neighbor's daughter was to have been introduced to the family, and Anne looked on in silent sympathy. Somehow Aubrey had loosened himself from the prison of the woman's proud and conceited manner. He and Mary were, to both of their dismay, impossible for them to be alone for any length of time. The rest of the evening was spent in dancing and looking at each other over some else's shoulder.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Morning found Aubrey penning frantically in the library at Lakewood. His sister was to visit Pemberley again, and he had a letter he wished for her to deliver.

Olivia came into the library with her bonnet in hand. "Are you nearly finished?"

"Yes, yes…just a few more lines…" muttered Aubrey. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and took a gulp of water from the cup at his side.

"I am to deliver this to…" Olivia began. She shoved her bonnet on and began to tie it on while glancing up at the sky through the window.

"To Mary—to Mary, and don't forget. No one else."

"Of course, Brother," Olivia sighed. "Now would you hurry up? It looks to rain soon and I wish to have arrived at Pemberley by then." Her brother scribbled one last thing and then hastily folded the letter in half, ripping it in the middle just a bit. He cursed.

"Aubrey!" cried Olivia.

"Forgive me, but I wanted it to be perfect."

"Well, it'll just have to be as it is, for I'm leaving…_now_." She grabbed the letter and placed it in her reticule. "It will be safe in my hands."

"Don't be reading it, Olivia."

"I'm surprised you trust me so little, Aubrey," Olivia said with a small smirk.

"I know you, and that'd be something you would do. Do this for Mary, would you?"

"Fine. I will not read it, though I'm sorely tempted to, Brother." She tapped her finger on her brother's nose and he jerked away. "Next time you write a love note to Mary, and you ask me to deliver it, you will not be so lucky."

Aubrey watched from behind the draperies as his sister exited the house and began her walk. She turned around once and waved at him cheekily. He jerked away from the window and began pacing up and down the room, up and down, up and down….

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Mary had never received a love note in all her life.

She had excused herself from the parlor and practically ran to her bedroom. Once there, she plopped onto her bed and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders to ward off the morning's slight chill. The letter began—

_Dear Miss __Bennet_

_I plead in advance for the horrible state of this letter. I only just learned my sister was coming to call upon you and the ladies, so I hurried to pen this for you. I do not profess to be wonderful with the written word, so forgive me if my writing causes you to laugh._

_I __write now to you,__ because fate has deemed it nearly impossibl__e for us to be alone long enough for me to__ tell you how much I __adore and love you. __Also, I fear I would stutter most atrociously if I were to tell you face to face. I will have to put up with it eventually, but for now forgive me my __cowardness_

_You said that I was jealous of Miles. I admit that I am, and I am not sorry for it. I could clobber the man for even looking at you just once! When you played so beautifully at Georgiana's party I wished I had been the one standing beside you and drinking the ambrosia of your perfume. Do tell, is it__ violets that you smell of? __I told Miles so and I'd not wish to appear ignorant in the matter. If he were to find out that I know nothing of you, especially the scent of your perfume, I would die of shame in a second. __Don't tell him, alright?_

_Lord, Olivia is impatient! I must stop now or she will leave without this letter. Let me finish with a sincere declaration of my es__teem__ for your person and my love for everything about you._

_From the depths of my heart and most assuredly yours,_

_Aubrey Wayland_

Mary sat on her bed silently. The clock was still tick-tocking and the rain had started up again just as it had yesterday. She hardly noticed it, for the letter in her hand had astounded her beyond belief. Mary had known deep inside—unconsciously—that he loved her. The words before her wrenched at her heart, and drew tears from her eyes—tears that plopped noiselessly upon the parchment, soaking into the inked characters and blurring them forever.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

**Hello my readers! Yet another chapter ****on the continuing battle between Mary and Aubrey to find love and happiness with each other (yep…corny).****. If you feel inclined you may review****—you have my permission****. Take care!**


	10. Chapter 10

Mary sat at the end of her bead, fingers curled round a post and cheek resting upon the cool wood. On her lap rested the letter. She sat in this state for half an hour, and when she next opened her eyes she found herself sprawled across her coverlet. Outside, the sun had nearly walked half way across the sky. Had she missed lunch?

…………………………….

Mary skipped down the stairs, biting her lip and smoothing the wrinkles from her dress. The piano beckoned to her from the parlor, and she was unable to resist. Someone had left the windows open and the curtains were swimming in the spring breeze. She lowered herself to the chair and scooted closer to the keys. After playing through half a piece, Mary lowered her forehead to rest on the top of the piano and ran her fingers up and down, up and down the high notes.

A touch on her shoulder jolted her from her reverie. Georgiana was standing behind her with a beaming smile upon her lips and a cool cup of lemonade in her hand.

"Thank you," Mary said when she was handed the glass.

"You missed lunch," Georgiana said accusingly.

"Did I?" Mary wondered with a raise of her brow. She set her cup down and began a simple tune on the piano. Georgiana stilled her fingers with her hands.

"Could it be because of that letter Olivia gave you?" Mary's wide eyes met with her friend's inquisitive ones. "It rather piqued my curiosity."

"Yes, well, it shall have to stay piqued for I am going on a walk. Alone." Mary shoved herself up from the chair and walked to the door. Georgiana followed half way but then stopped.

"I will practice my piano then," Georgiana acquiesced, "but I shall have a full account of each word by the end of the day—depend on it, my friend."

…………………………….

Mary ran back to her room, feet thudding on the floor and hair racing behind her. She pulled her hair into a haphazard twist and shoved a bonnet on top of it. She took a basket from the kitchen and folded a blanket into it, placing a fruit and some bread on top. With her letter safely tucked beneath a peach and orange, Mary was finally ready. She went out the back door and began her walk with slow, leisurely steps.

Mary was at the stream within a quarter of an hour. She grabbed the blanket and it unfurled before her as the wind snatched at its corners. She lowered herself to the ground and opened the note. She could not help but reread it and was careful to not wrinkle it. _Such a thing would surely be disastrous_, Mary thought. She took the orange from her basket and peeled it. Mary was never good at peeling, and it was the same for her this time. Her fingers dug in too deep in the flesh and sticky juice squirted onto her hands and in eyes. She ran her fingers through the stream and splashed some onto her sun-warmed face.

She lay back on the blanket, staring into the tall clouds. _He loves me_, she told herself in amazement.

…………………………….

Mary came back to a rather excited Georgiana, who was pacing back and forth in the parlor with a letter in hand. When she saw her friend step into the room she came forward. "We have here an invitation from 'Miss Wayland of Lakewood to spend the rest of the day and tomorrow with her at her home.'"

"Truly?" Mary took the proffered letter into hand and read it. "Are we given permission from your brother and my parents?"

"Yes. I think Fitzwilliam was quite relieved at the prospect of a day or so without us at Pemberley. Your parents were rather pleased as well, especially your mother, and Kitty is beside herself." Georgiana raised an eyebrow comically, and Mary pressed a smile from appearing on her lips.

…………………………….

"Is Lakewood as pretty as Pemberley?" mused Mary. She sat at the foot of her bed with Georgiana as they watched a maid pack Mary's things into a traveling case.

"No, but I only say it because I have never seen the place. I am just as in the dark about the place as you are."

"Actually," began Mary, "Aubrey told me that nothing can compare to it. He says that though it may be smaller than your grand estate, it has its beautiful and alluring qualities."

"He told you that? Well, I suppose he would. We all have our loyalties to our homes. You shall—no, Millicent," said Georgiana to the maid, "the yellow dress, if you will. Brown is much too somber."

"You may as well pack my things yourself," observed Mary.

Elizabeth popped her head into the room, announcing the carriage was ready to depart. Once their things were latched into place and the girls were handed into the carriage, they were on their way. Kitty was scrunched between Mary and Georgiana, for she had brought two trunks—resulting in one seat being occupied by a rather bulging case.

"Please Mary, you are pinching me so with your elbow. Could you scoot over a tad?" whined Kitty.

"It isn't my fault you are so tortured. Who was the one that brought more trunks than could last a month? We are staying only a day or two." Mary jabbed her elbow into Kitty once more before putting her arm up and over her shoulders. "Will that do?"

"I suppose. But now I am getting uncomfortably warm…"

"Oh please!" cried Mary. She drew her arm away and sat as she had been all along—poking elbow and all. Luckily their journey lasted only ten more minutes or else Mary might have thrown Kitty from the window.

The carriage drew up to the front door on the stone drive. Mary thought the place quaint and paradisiacal with its flowering apple trees and wooded grounds. Lakewood was situated upon a low hill just a few miles from Georgiana's home. It stood two stories tall with floor length windows and rooms upon rooms crowding the two floors. The Waylands were by no means poor, and Mary could see that in the tasteful furnishings and elegant lamps and paintings spattering each room.

"I think I have fallen for your Lakewood," whispered Mary to Olivia as they were shown to the back of the house where tea and cake was being set out on the verandah. The girls settled themselves back to watch the sun set. Olivia was glad to hear praise of her home upon Mary's lips. Wouldn't Aubrey be asking her to marry him soon? Mary'd have to come live at Lakewood for some time until she and Aubrey could find a new home. _I get away with myself_, Olivia scolded herself, even though she dearly wanted Mary as a sister.

"Dinner will be served within the hour, my dears," Mrs. Wayland announced from inside.

…………………………….

It was the first time Aubrey saw Mary since he wrote her that letter. He was by no means a calm young man. He stood and waited for her to come down the stairs and to smile at him. But would she smile? Had her reception of his letter been a good one? His sister was unable to tell him anything…or she just wasn't willing to.

Aubrey stood up and ran a nervous hand through his hair, ruining it more than taming it as he had hoped to. Olivia descended the stairs with Georgiana and Mary behind her. "Good evening, Georgiana," Aubrey said with a deep bow. When he straightened back up Mary was there before him. He swallowed hard and took her hand and bowed once more, losing his balance and nearly dragging Mary to the floor.

"Sorry about that, Mary," he said, cheeks tinted with embarrassment.

"We are all not perfect, Mr. Wayland," she replied with laughter shading her voice. Kitty finally made her way down just seconds before the clock struck the hour.

"Where's Miles?" Aubrey asked his mother.

"I haven't a clue, Aubrey. I hope he doesn't keep us waiting for long." Looking at her husband she asked, "Perhaps we ought to sit down now?" Miles burst through the door with busy hands tying his cravat and an apologetic look in his eyes.

"Late again are we?" Aubrey goaded his cousin.

"Yes, and please forgive me, Aunt." Miles bowed to the young ladies and gave a final tug at the cloth at his neck.

"If you're to arrive late at least be fully dressed and ready to sup, Miles," Aubrey's father scolded gently. He took his wife's arm and led her to the table. Aubrey took Georgiana's and—to Aubrey's dislike—Miles had the honor to lead Mary to dinner. Kitty trailed behind, fiddling with a loose ribbon on her sleeve.

Mary was helped into her seat by Miles trembling arm. She observed a high color upon his cheeks, and she wondered if her dream had actually given way to a true glimpse into Miles's feelings for her. "Thank you," she said once seated.

"Y—your, most welcome, Miss Bennet." Miles took his place in front of her and knocked over his empty wine glass. He muttered a curse word, and Mary pretended to not hear it. She turned to Olivia beside her and shared an amused smile.

"Poor Miles," observed Olivia softly.

"Surely not," said Mary. "It was but an accident."

"Yes, and such things always occur after you bestow a generous smile towards him."

"I did no such thing!"

"You needn't deny the fact that my cousin has fallen for you rather badly. I won't tell Aubrey—you can trust me. I'm sure he knows of this already, though."

"Please!" Mary urged, wishing her friend to hush, for Miles's eyes had swung in their direction—curious to know the words that passed between them. Olivia snorted a little, and, making sure Mary was not looking, she looked to her brother meaningfully. His eyes darted to Mary.

Aubrey cleared his throat…and then cleared it again. He took a sip of his wine and then set the glass down. After a few more swallows he sat forward in his chair. Mary did not notice the wild looks Aubrey was sending her way, and only when something brushed against her ankle did she jerk her head up. Had that been Aubrey's foot?

"Have you always eaten with such devotion to your pheasant?" Aubrey asked.

"Not usually, but I find it particularly excellent this evening." Mary lowered her eyes to her plate once more and watched as her fingers manipulated a fork over her roasted bird. Then those very eyes drifted back up to Aubrey, admiring black hair that curled about his ears and soft lips that parted slowly when he breathed.

"Olivia tells me that you are quite taken with Lakewood. I am glad to hear that." Aubrey leaned forward. "So Pemberley has no chance?"

"I wouldn't say that, Mr. Wayland."

"Lord! You've been turned over to the enemy side. What bribes has Georgiana offered you that you will always remain at Pemberley?"

"Nothing, actually. I like it of my own accord. And—and I live at my father's house."

"Shall you always do so, Miss Bennet?"

Aubrey watched as her hand stilled and unconsciously hovered to her throat. She was unable to meet his eyes, and try as he might he could not find them with his own. "It—it depends…"

"Upon what—?" Aubrey's father stood to go to his study, signaling that Miles and Aubrey follow suit. Aubrey could do nothing to stay and was thus removed from the room. Mary raised her head when he walked out and she followed him with her uncertain gaze. Olivia rested her hand on Mary's shoulder briefly and patted it before getting up and moving to the parlor where they would await the men.

…………………………….

Mary dragged her pinkie round the rim of her tea cup. She sat alone and watched as Georgiana played upon the pianoforte. It was nearly equal in its beauty with the piano at Pemberley, but the color was not as deep. There was even a harp sitting in front of one of the windows. Olivia sat at its side and caressed the strings.

The settee upon which Mary sat sank in on her side and she slid an inch or two in its direction. Someone had sat next to her. It was Miles. Mary immediately sat up and scooted to the far end of the settee and took another biscuit from the plate on the side table next to her.

"Good evening, Miss Bennet," Miles said hesitantly.

"It is indeed, Mr. Aldridge." She wished to make no conversation with him, especially since she was new to the news that he liked her more than she wanted him to. Before Miles could continue any further he was interrupted by Aubrey.

"I feel that it is my turn to entertain everyone," he said with a deep bow. He saw that he had Mary's attention and he winked at her. She blushed prettily, and he was given confidence to continue in his endeavor…to play the piano before everyone.

Olivia cried out when her brother sat at the piano. "He is uncommonly good."

"Stop it, Olivia, for you make me blush," Aubrey said. The ladies laughed and Miles glowered from across the room.

"I did not know you played, Aubrey," Georgiana said.

"He does, Georgiana. You had better steel yourself to be pleasantly surprised," replied Olivia. "Shall I join you, Brother?" Both sat at the piano and began a fast and jumping piece, jolting everyone in the room to the edge of their seats.

"Good lord, children!" cried Mrs. Wayland in a shocked delight. "Where did you learn such a piece?"

"When we visited the Sharp's two years ago, Mother," Olivia said as she rapidly pressed keys down in time to her brother's movements.

"Well then, I suppose that explains it. Their children were always wild."

"Hardly children now, dear," her husband replied. "Amelia married some lord from the north, and Frederick just reached his majority last month."

"I believe you lie, Mr. Wayland." Mrs. Wayland sent a playful grimace to the girls, saying, "Then I'd have to be getting older. I wish time did not pass so quickly, because I would love to have my children with me just a little longer."

"You shall always have us," Olivia said. She went to her mother and sat on the arm of her chair, resting an arm around her shoulders.

"Yes, but when you two marry the house will be so empty." Aubrey couldn't help but sneak a glance at Mary who seemed to be very engrossed in the cup of tea in her hand.

The conversation branched off and Olivia chatted with her mother for the rest of the evening. Georgiana joined Mary at her seat, forcing Miles to find a place elsewhere. He stood at the window and frowned into the dark for the rest of the evening. Aubrey sat with his father—though he wished to be somewhere else. Thus the evening passed, and the matter of a certain letter was not addressed.

…………………………….

The girls had decided to walk to town the next morning, and Aubrey and Miles elected to go as their escorts. It went like this:

"I am in great need of a new bonnet, Mary. Could I borrow some money?" Kitty sighed during breakfast.

"No." If one were to look in on Kitty's room, then they would see piles of hat boxes and bonnets strewn around her room. Even though the maid cleaned up every morning after Kitty woke up, her bonnets seemed determined to lie on the floor again and hang on the headboard of the bed. The young lady could never keep her room clean. Would another bonnet help?

"Please, Mary, for my birthday."

"Oh, it's your birthday?" Georgiana asked a bit surprised—she hadn't purchased anything for her sister-in-law. Would a slice of cake suffice for a present? _Not quite_, Georgiana told herself.

"No, but it shall be in three months and nine days," said Kitty. She turned back to Mary and batted her pretty brown eyes. "Please?" Georgiana heaved an inward sigh of relief and told herself to mark down somewhere Kitty's birthday—it wouldn't do to forget.

"Fine, but remember it as your present," Mary said. Kitty squealed and clapped her hands in delight.

"I suppose we could take a walk to town," Olivia said. "There are new books come in to the bookstore. Shall we make it a trip, then?" Kitty nodded vehemently, and it was decided a walk to town was to be the order of the day.

Miles, who had overheard the girls' conversation from the other room, walked in semi-casually. "You are to walk out today?"

"Yes, Miles, and I'm to get a new bonnet for my birthday!" cried Kitty, and she ran out to her room.

"Happy birthday, Miss Kitty!" called Miles before she exited.

"It isn't her birthday, Cousin," Olivia said. "Don't think on it. It'll only confuse you."

"I thought so…. Would you ladies mind if I joined you on your romp? I need to pick something up from…someone at a store." Miles waved his hand about as he made an excuse to accompany them. Mary reluctantly added her invitation to the other girls', hoping he wouldn't plaster himself to her side the whole way there. With the help of Kitty, Mary changed into her pale green walking dress and brown spencer. Kitty borrowed her best bonnet—to her futile protestations.

Just as the party was readying to leave, Aubrey spotted them from the stairwell. He shouldered on his coat as he clobbered down to meet them before they departed. There was no way he was going to let Miles alone with Mary for even a minute. No one protested the new addition to the group and soon they were off.

The dirt road they trod upon walked along a slow-moving river, and Mary stepped alongside it. She watched tendrils of her hair lift in the wind, and she wondered what Aubrey saw in her plain face. Could she really be so beautiful to him? A face appeared next to her in the rippling reflection and she nearly tumbled into the water. Aubrey's hands grabbed at her shoulders and pulled her away.

"Forgive me, Mary. I seem to be offsetting gravity wherever I go," Aubrey laughed.

"Where are the others?"

"Just down that way—by those trees. I fear we left you behind staring at the river rather transfixed with something. What stole your attentions so?"

"Nothing really…it's just so lovely." By now the rest of the party had moved ahead with Miles at the back, anxiously looking behind for his cousin and the young lady whom he admired so.

The silence between Aubrey and Mary expanded as they began down the road again—this time they were alone. "I…er…wonder if you received my note?" Aubrey ventured, peeking at Mary. He saw her eyes flick towards him and then away again. "Well?"

"Yes, Olivia delivered it." Mary felt like her heart was to burst it was thumping so rapidly.

"And what did you think of it, Mary? I pray I was not too forward."

"No! You were not too forward. In fact, I thought it the finest letter ever that has been given to me."

Aubrey turned and took hold of her hands, rubbing his thumb over her gloved knuckles. "I am glad you thought so—and think so?"

Mary laughed. "Yes. I still treasure it above all others."

"And you've received such letters before?"

A pause. "Actually, no."

"Then tell me," Aubrey began, "is it really violets that you smell of?"

"Yes, Aubrey. I suppose now you will go tell Miles all about it, you jealous boy." Mary swatted him on the shoulder and they took to walking again. Their hands swung between each other like the pendulum of a clock, back and forth, back and forth.

"I was wondering something, but I'm not sure if I should say it now for it looks like rain." Aubrey blinked his eyes suddenly when a raindrop plopped onto his face. Mary protracted her parasol, knowing that though it would be little coverage, it would at least prevent her from an onslaught of water upon the face.

"May I?" asked Miles, gesturing towards her shade. He huddled under it with her and they both laughed when their heads collided.

They found themselves staring at each other once more, standing in a developing rain puddle as the sky let loose and they were drenched. Aubrey brought his hand to Mary's face and trailed his fingers down her dripping cheek. "Would you—would you marry me?" he stammered.

Mary let her arm fall back bringing the parasol with it. The useless article dropped into the mud and took on a wilted flower look. Mary swallowed hard and nodded slowly at first. Then, as she became confident in her answer, her head bobbed even more. Aubrey's face split in a grin and he took her tightly into his arms. Mary shivered in his wet grasp—partly because she was cold from the rain and partly because she could hardly contain herself. No longer would she carry the name Bennet with her everywhere she went.

"Aubrey—Aubrey, I love you," whispered Mary into his ear, sending puffs of warm air onto his skin and shivers down his spine.

**Happy holidays! Exams are finally over and I am as free as a bird**** to update****—except that my father tends to use the computer all the time.** **Thanks for bearing with me.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry about the typo in the last chapter (I meant to say Aubrey and not Miles) and about the long wait. I drew a blank for a while, and I think I didn't update right away because I was afraid of my story ending so soon. It has been great fun having you all read this, and I hope that you are as happy as I am that there will be another chapter coming along after this.**

The rain continued to pour throughout the day. A large pond formed at the front of the Wayland's property, spilling across the road to create an inconvenient muddy soup. It clung to the carriage's wheels as the group from Lakewood was making its way back home. There was a mighty splash as they sped through the water, but just as it was about to clear it the carriage became stuck.

"Just our luck!" cried Kitty. "We're to be stuck the rest of the day in damp clothes!"

"Don't be silly, Miss Kitty," Aubrey said. "If we must, we will just walk back home. No one can be wetter than us in the entire county." Kitty stared at him dispiritedly and leaned her head back upon Mary's shoulder to mope. Mary did her best to hide a smile.

Miles was not in a good spirits either, and he sighed as he checked his pocket watch. He cracked the door open to check upon the progress of the driver and his son who had accompanied him to town. "They seem to be getting nowhere," Miles told the rest of the party as he shut the door and wiped his streaming face with a handkerchief.

"Perhaps Edmund and his son need our help, Miles," Aubrey said. "Four hands are better than two." Miles groaned, eliciting laughs from the girls. Both of them withdrew from the carriage and into the wet world outside.

"I am glad I am no man," Olivia said, "for they are always getting dirty."

"Aubrey is always clean," Mary observed to herself. The carriage was filled with sudden laughter, and Mary realized she had not been so quiet after all.

"He may be an exception but only slightly. Once he came home from visiting friends, and he was covered from head to toe in mud. When asked for an explanation, he replied that he had been thrown from his horse. Fortunately for him, being muddied up was the only fatality he suffered that day—unless you can count Mother's tongue-lashing of him," Olivia said. The time passed in mostly a quiet manner as the men worked at freeing them from their imprisonment to the mud for the next quarter of an hour.

Mary could hear faint arguing outside with her ear pressed against the door. She moved back when the handle jerked it open. A rather dirty Aubrey presented his face to them. "It is done, ladies. Now don't be alarmed when you feel a slight shove as we attempt to get out." He was gone as soon as he had come. Almost immediately the girls were nearly thrown to the other side of the carriage as Miles, Aubrey and Edmund threw themselves at the carriage. Edmund's son sat out front and managed the horses. After two more tries they were free, and once more they set off for Lakewood.

Mrs. Wayland saw them arrive in the courtyard, and she went to greet them at the door with towels to prevent any serious puddles on the carpeting inside of the house. "We thought you'd never get back," she said.

"Sorry to have worried you, Mother," Olivia said. "We planned on leaving not long after we arrived, but you should have seen the trees in town—they nearly broke in half in that wind."

"That's not the only reason," Aubrey added. "The girls decided to have a spontaneous cup of tea at Miss Menshon's Tea Parlor. They gossiped and drank until the day fairly flew by."

"If talking about tea and books is gossiping, then I've been missing out—and I am glad of it," said Kitty. She wrung out the last heavy drops of water from her hair, and then she skipped up to her room. Mary, Georgiana and Olivia followed shortly.

Aubrey helped to gather the towels from the floor and handed them to the maid. He went up to his room to change. When he came back down he found that his mother was in the parlor. He went in, and then he walked the length of the room three and half times before his mother interrupted with a touch on his arm. "Is something bothering you, Son?" she asked.

"I wouldn't say _bothering_," he replied, sitting beside her on the settee and stretching his arms out behind his head. He looked tired.

"What is it then?" she asked. He had never been so cryptic before, and it was worrying.

Startling his mother, Aubrey went to grasp her hands and gave them a squeeze. "You like Miss Bennet, don't you?" he asked.

Mrs. Wayland's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Mary? Of course. She's a sweet girl, but sometimes I can hardly hear what she says—she's so quiet sometimes."

"She is that." Aubrey laughed. "And that's what I like about her so much. She's not as other girls are…she's different from them."

"And that is what captivates you so much about her?" asked his mother.

"Partially. She has some kind of air about her that draws me in and doesn't let go. She's probably not aware of it, but she can be very beautiful sometimes."

Mrs. Wayland watched her son smile foolishly to himself as he thought about the girl. "Do you love her?" she ventured.

"Yes. I feel so much for her and think on and on about her so much that sometimes I feel I'm not my own person anymore. We are so much alike, Mother, and also so very different," Aubrey said. "She's a breath of fresh air."

"And this is what made you pace the room so?"

"Yes and no, but I have not told you the whole of it. When we were making our way to town, and just before it began to rain, I asked Mary to be my wife."

"She had better have said yes, Aubrey, or I will never forgive her." She patted her son playfully on the cheek as he grinned.

"You aren't to be disappointed," he reassured her, "unless her parents don't agree with the match."

"No one would say no to such a wonderful man as you, dearest," she replied. They shared a quick hug before Mr. Wayland entered with a gaggle of young girls behind him.

"I found these ruffians loitering in our hallway, m'dear, and I brought them here for you to do with as you wish," Mr. Wayland said with gleaming eyes. The girls smothered their laughter and filed into the room to find seats for themselves.

"Are you all warmly dressed?" Mrs. Wayland asked, getting up to examine them. "I would despair if any of you were to catch a chill. I myself have recovered recently from a lengthy head cold, and I would not wish it upon anyone in the world."

"Thank you for your concern, but we were not in the rain for too long. You needn't worry on our accounts," Georgiana assuaged. She took the seat that Aubrey had vacated earlier and took up her sewing.

When they were seated, Aubrey and his father left to join Miles in the library. Everyone watched for Mary's reaction when Aubrey winked at her and smiled. They were delighted to see a fine pink haze suffuse her cheeks. She wrinkled her face in embarrassment when she saw she was watched by those surrounding her.

"I suppose you all know about it," sighed Mary. "We promised to keep it a secret until dinnertime when all of us were together."

"You two must be the worst keepers of secrets then," Kitty announced, "for I heard you two whispering at the bookstore about it. Besides, words were not needed to see you had eyes only for each other by the time you bothered even catching up with us."

Mrs. Wayland voiced her opinion. "I am happy that you chose him, Mary. You will both do well for each other."

"You know, Mary, the first thing I remember about meeting you was your sunburned nose," began Olivia. "And then you played that enchanting little piece of music. Aubrey couldn't keep his eyes off of you, and I now I see why."

Mary didn't know what to say, so instead, her eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Olivia."

"You shall have to call me sister from now on," Olivia said. They smiled. A sudden bell from the hall sounded. It was time to eat.

* * *

Dinner that night was pleasant and filled with congratulations for Aubrey and Mary. A toast was given by Mr. Wayland, and the tinkle of the wine glasses as they touched each other rang in Mary's head the next morning. She was in the garden out back cutting some flowers for her room. Olivia and Georgiana played badminton over a net tied between two blossoming trees. Unfortunately for Kitty, she had taken cold after the other day's rain and was laid up in her bed with chamomile tea and warm soup. Aubrey and his father were visiting tenants. Miles…well, he was…

…watching Mary as she made her way deeper into the garden. When he saw that no one was in sight he went to meet her. "Good afternoon, Miss Bennet," he said in greeting. Mary was startled at the sudden presence of Aubrey's cousin, and she dropped her basket to the ground. Her sunflowers spilled out, and Miles's heel caught a few petals and squashed them.

"Ooh!" Mary cried. She hurried to pick them up. Miles was eager to help Mary in any way, so he bent to help her. Instead, their heads banged into each other. After the ringing in her head was gone Mary found herself able to accept Miles's apology.

"Did you want something, Mr. Aldridge?" she asked.

"I hope I did not hurt your head too much, Miss Bennet!" he cried. He did not seem to hear what she had asked at all. She gave up and turned from him to continue down the path with her basket slung over her arm. Just as she was clipping another flower Miles stopped short beside her, startling her once more. The shears in her hand went for the center of the flower instead of for the stem.

"Oh dear, forgive me, Miss Bennet," Miles said. He realized he was being a nuisance, and before he left he needed to tell her something.

"It is fine. Perhaps you ought to go join your cousin in a game of badminton."

"No, no, I came to ask you something." There was a deafening pause, and Mary was beginning to get cross. Not only was Miles prolonging her stay in the garden where the sun shone most steadily, but he was getting in her way whichever way she turned. Brushing back a few tired wisps of hair from her forehead, Mary turned to look at the suddenly trembling young man before her.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

"Yes!" he laughed shakily. He stepped forward twice until he was a scant few inches from Mary's face. She frowned and stepped back as she recalled a certain dream she had had one 

night not long ago. Before Miles could catch her, she fell into the puddle that awaited her on the ground below. Mary watched as horror etched itself into Miles's eyes. She looked on as he turned tail and ran off in alarm. She was so surprised at what had occurred that she was not aware she was on the ground until water began to seep through her skirt and petticoats.

Mary got changed into another dress not soon after. She did not wish to go back outside in case she might encounter Miles once more, but she had left her basket in the garden. The room she was staying in wanted a touch of spring. Though she was to leave that evening with Kitty and Georgiana, she wanted to make the rest of her stay at Lakewood a good one.

Mary hurried down the hall and the stairs to the back door. She searched for her basket and avoided the puddle nearby as she retrieved the flowers. Before she could turn away Miles was in front her again—and this time he had some flowers bunched up in his hand.

"I saw that you were picking flowers, and I wanted to get you some of the pretty ones I saw earlier this morning on my ride out in the park," he said. He leaned over to hand her the flowers—the gorgeous flowers. Mary sighed in amazement at the purple blooms with streaks of white in them.

"Thank you, Mr. Aldridge."

"It was no trouble of mine. I find nature most pleasurable in the mornings, don't you think?"

"Of course," replied Mary. "It is always nice." She started to make her way back to the house. She looked over the clusters of flowers for signs of the girls and their badminton game—they were not to be found. Sounds from the kitchen window foretold of a gathering around cool lemonade, and Mary suddenly thirsted for some.

Before any thought of the consequences that might follow, Miles took Mary's hand and placed his lips upon it. She gasped and withdrew her hand. "Miles!" He did not stop there, unfortunately. As a furious blush was working its way high up on Mary's cheeks he took hold of her by the arms and gave her a sound kiss on the mouth.

Mary did not react at first, but when she did she was finally able to hear the normal sounds of the day return to her ears. The furious roar died down and the beat of her heart did not seem so abnormal anymore. With the return of her hearing came the sound of someone behind her. She spun around to the sight of Aubrey's retreating back.

"Aubrey," she said to herself. He was on his horse and riding away before she could even think to go after him. "Aubrey." Tears welled up her eyes. Surely he would not think she had enjoyed _that_? She wiped her eyes quickly before turning back to Miles who, for once, did not flee in the face of trouble.

"I…I..." he stuttered.

"How. Could. You?" Mary asked him quietly—threateningly.

His face grew beet-red. "Forgive me, Miss Bennet, but I was not thinking. I did not know that Aubrey was around."

"Yes. You were not thinking." Mary could find no more words to fill the thickened air between them. Her eyes teared up once more and spilled down her face. Her loathing for Miles was complete. But what of Aubrey's love? Mary asked herself. It was her turn to run from Miles. She flew past an astonished Georgiana at the bottom of the stairs, and she shut ger door behind her. It was then that she noticed the purple violets in her hand were still there. Angry at the world and what it had let happen to her, Mary pulled her window open and threw the flowers into the air. They thudded to the grass outside in a mess of leaves and petals. Mary lay on her bed and wept.


	12. Chapter 12

He had seen her kiss him…or was she the one who had been on the receiving end? Aubrey didn't know what to think anymore. At first he had been so incensed at the sight of Miles with his arms around Mary that he could not think at all. Anger had flashed through his body and the only thing he could have done at that moment was to walk away or to punch his cousin.

Aubrey sat in the library near the tall window facing the direction of Pemberley. He was rather ashamed at what he had done, not speaking to Mary even once as she and her sisters were loaded into the carriage that took them back to Pemberley. He had stood behind the draperies in the library, his eyes peeping out underneath lowered brows. He had been angry.

He pulled his legs up onto his chair and rested his chin on his knees. Miles had certainly made a mess of things, and it would take some time to undo the damage. First, Aubrey would have to talk to his idiot cousin. Maybe I'll give him the lashing that he deserves, mused Aubrey to himself. He entertained the image of Miles flying backwards onto the ground clutching his bleeding nose and looking dumbfounded.

The sound of the door at the far end of the room creaking open and of rustling skirts heralded the arrival of Olivia. She was frowning.

"What on earth are you doing?" she demanded.

"Sitting," he replied. She didn't sound _too_ angry at him.

"When you could be doing something to be remedying the situation?"

"What can I do, Olivia? She hates me now."

"She's not a fool. She probably knows how sorry you are about it all now. Perhaps if you went—."

"I'm not going anywhere. If you want to you may go, but I rather like sitting here in the sun." Aubrey knew he was being obstinate, but he didn't think he could face Mary at the moment. Her sweet countenance was probably stained with dried tears and blotchy all because of him…and Miles. The idiot! Aubrey ground his teeth and stood up.

"Where are you going?" his sister asked as he left the room. She followed him down the hall.

"Fishing." Aubrey found his fishing gear where he had last left it. The thought of the glittering lake just north of his family's home already began to calm his tumbling thoughts.

"Of course," Olivia snorted. She looked at him with something akin to disgust.

"What is that supposed to mean?" His sister's attitude was not helping his already tarnished mood.

"I just want to know why men always go hunting or fishing in times of emotional distress. You don't seem to care anything for Mary anymore. I don't think you deserve to marry her if you show such a lack of feeling for her." Olivia peeked from beneath her lashes to see the reaction her words would have on her brother.

Aubrey tossed his gear onto the floor and came up to his sister. "You don't know how much I care about Mary. I love her! And you're right, maybe I don't deserve her anymore, but by God I wish I still had a chance," he growled. Olivia stood stock still as he marched away from her. She had never doubted his love for her friend, but she never knew it had been so deep. Olivia was still collecting herself when Aubrey barreled back down the hall to retrieve his things.

"I'm sorry for what I said, Aubrey," she said to his retreating back.

He stopped and turned. "It's alright, Ollie. You had her best interests at heart and I can't fault you for that."

"Thank you."

Aubrey hesitated. "Would you care to come fishing with me? It is surprisingly calming."

"And smell like fish for the rest of the day? I think not. But...I will be going to Pemberley shortly. Would you like me to deliver a message?"

"Not right now, Olivia."

* * *

The quiet tinkle of a piano leaked into the hallway as Georgiana was walking past. She paused and poked her head into the room. Mary sat at the instrument, fingers moving slowly and body weaving back and forth. She was humming to herself and playing some tune that was familiar. Georgiana must have made some noise, because Mary turned towards her.

"Hello," Georgiana said. "That was beautiful."

"Thank you," Mary replied. She stood up and wiped the few tears that were left in her eyes. "Do you—do you think he will come by?"

"He had better, or I will string him up in a tree and let the birds at him."

"I would not let you."

"Even if he never called again?"

"No. I like him too much." Mary looked out the window as a sudden gust of wind shot leaves at the windows, making a soft pittering noise. She caught sight of Olivia Wayland giving her horse to a stable boy. She held her bonnet on as she made her way to the front door, passing the window and catching the attention of Georgiana as well. The sight of Olivia made Mary's heart speed up, since her brother and she looked so much alike.

"I was wondering when she would come," Georgiana said. She left her position by the window to sit down and wait for Olivia to be shown in. Mary stood where she was, nervously fingering the tassels on the curtains.

Olivia was announced and she entered with cheeks ruddy from the wind outside. "I say, this weather is most unfortunate."

"Indeed it is. Elizabeth was out trying to help tie up the roses with the gardener earlier this morning," Georgiana said. "You ought to have seen it, for my brother was leaping about, trying to fetch things for her that she needed. All he did was look completely ridiculous!"

"I can imagine it," laughed Olivia as refreshments were brought in. She reached for a glass just as Mary did. Their cups collided and splashed onto the tray. They grinned at each other and helped mop up the liquid that was nearly dripping over the edge of the table.

"How is your brother?" Mary asked Olivia in an almost whisper.

Olivia paused in what she was doing and looked over at Mary. "He's tormented."

"Is he?" asked Mary, surprised.

"Yes. I think he knows you are not at fault, but he battles with himself because he's so angry at Miles for what he did."

"Yes, well…" Mary said and stopped, cheeks going red and mouth shutting tightly.

"Are you angry, Mary?" Olivia asked.

"I don't know what I am," began Mary. "Miles was not thinking when he kissed me, and Aubrey doesn't know my side of it. I keep running it through my head…."

"You shouldn't," Georgiana said. "You know, Elizabeth didn't like my brother for a very long time. Fitzwilliam told me all about it and of the things she had accused him of doing. He wrote this rather long letter to her, and he stayed up all night doing it. I think it was the letter that made her realize that she liked him, even just a little bit.

"But I don't know if it was or not. The point is is that perhaps you should write to Aubrey and tell him everything—and not just about Miles and you, but _everything_."

"I never heard about that letter," Mary said. "Do you really think it'll solve everything?"

"How should I know?" asked Georgiana. "I was only making a suggestion. I haven't a clue how it'll all turn out."

"Well, I think it's a grand idea," said Olivia. She got up from her seat and ran her fingers down the piano keys. "This way you'll be able to speak without him interrupting you and not listening to any words you say."

"You truly think so?" Mary asked.

Olivia knelt before Mary and took her hands into her own. "Aubrey is my brother and I care deeply about him, and you are my friend. I want things to be ironed out between the both of you, and this could be the thing that does the job. I wouldn't give you unsound advice, Mary."

"I—I think I'll go write it now," Mary said with tears prickling her eyes. She left the girls to the piano and climbed the stairs to her room to write her letter.

She sharpened her quill with a pen knife and dipped it in the inkwell that sat on her desk. She placed a hand on her parchment to hold it down and with the tip of the quill she began to write—to the sound of wind rattling at the sides of Pemberley and the quiet music from downstairs. She sat, sometimes twirling a strand of hair between her fingers, scribbling and crunching up the beginnings of unsatisfactory letters. It was just before dinner that Mary finally finished, blotting the paper and blowing on it. She sealed it and set it on her bedside table. She would have it delivered the next day. For now she would have to dress and go down to eat.

* * *

The next morning found Mary at her mirror. She had carefully settled her bonnet on her head and stood to examine her features. She touched her lips in wonder, remembering the feel of Aubrey's wandering lips on them. She smiled shyly at herself and tugged a spencer on over her short-sleeved dress. It had been three thirty-two in the morning when Mary decided that the only way to get her letter to Aubrey was by her own hand. She would have to travel to Lakewood and perhaps she would even hand it to him personally. She hadn't seen him for a while, and she was excited to catch even a glimpse of his lovely blue eyes. She hoped the letter would do its job.

Mary startled the workers in the stable when she went to fetch a horse. The sun was just pulling itself up from the ground and its dim light was just barely enough to see by. One of the stable boys readied a horse for her, and, before she knew it, she was on her way to Lakewood.

She exited the courtyard in a spray of pebbles and water. It had rained overnight and there were puddles of standing water everywhere. Mary was soon enough decorated with dots of mud and small, damp leaves. By the time Lakewood appeared on the horizon the sun was just hanging over the ground and shining in Mary's eyes. She squinted the rest of the way to Aubrey's house.

Her horse drew to a stop and she tied it to a thin purple tree out front. "You have to do this," Mary said aloud to herself. She smoothed her dress as best as she could and smeared some mud across the front. She heaved a sigh and then, realizing what she had to do, she began to tremble. She went to the door and tapped it with her knuckles—stepping back and holding her hands to still their shaking.

The door swung open to reveal a servant, buttoning his overcoat and tugging at his cravat. He looked surprised to see her. "Good morning, Miss Bennet," he said.

"Good morning," she replied. I can't do this, she cried to herself, I can't! "Could you deliver this letter to Mr. Aubrey Wayland? It is rather important that he gets it as soon as possible."

"I'll do it when I see him, Miss Bennet. Would you like a cup of tea before you head off? My mother cooks here and could prepare some for you. It's quite good."

"No thank you," Mary said. "It is kind of you to offer, but I must leave now."

"Yes, yes of course," said the boy, flushing suddenly. He ran a hand through his short blonde hair. "I won't forget, Miss." Mary nodded and handed the letter to him. He took it and watched as she stepped over a puddle of water only to have her hem trail straight through it. He sighed and stood at the door until she was a speck on the road. He suddenly remembered the letter in his hands, and he wondered where his master's son could have disappeared to so early in the morning.

* * *

Aubrey sat at the lake's edge, tossing one rock after another into the still water. His backside was wet from sitting for so long in the rain-soaked grass. He contemplated the thought of a warm cup of tea and some of the cook's warm bread but he couldn't make himself get up. He'd been up since seven in the morning, taking his fishing pole with him to see if anything would bite so early in the day.

His horse stood nibbling at grass, and when it suddenly lifted its head Aubrey was distracted from his thoughts. Passing nearby through a field was someone on a horse. They were going in the opposite direction of Lakewood. Aubrey took as close a look as he could of the rider before his heart jumped out of its place in his chest. The person looked very much like Mary.

Aubrey shot up to his feet and ran for his horse without thinking. He was galloping away from the lake, past his home and over a fallen tree that seemed to shiver as he sped past. His lungs grew tight with his heavy breathing and by the time he was even close Mary's horse he was gasping.

* * *

Mary heard sound of another horse tearing across the field behind her. She looked over her shoulder and nearly fell off her saddle. It was Aubrey. She pulled back her reigns and patted her mount's head, running her fingers through its mane as Aubrey came to stop beside her.

They stared at each other until a fly flickered its way into Aubrey's eyes. He flapped his hand to swat it and found Mary giggling into her shoulder once it was gone. "Damned fly," he muttered loud enough for her to hear. She smiled.

"What—what are you doing out here?" she asked quietly.

He leaned forward to hear her and he was hit with the sudden scent of violets. He swallowed. "I was fishing at the lake near my home."

"So early in the morning? Did you catch any fish?"

"Not a single one," he said. "I actually left my pole in the water."

"You should go back to it then, I suppose," Mary said. She was getting nervous about the letter, and she wanted to get herself as far away from Lakewood as she could before he read it. She did not know how he would react to it.

"Should I?" he asked. Mary bit her lip and nodded quickly, looking in the direction of Pemberley and fervently wishing herself there. To her surprise Aubrey took hold of her chin and turned her face towards his. Their eyes met across the two horses that rubbed noses with each other and whickered softly together. "Could—could I kiss you, Mary?"

"Of course," Mary breathed, leaning, just as Aubrey was, over the gap between them. Their lips met—hers hesitant and his rough. His hands drew up to take hold of Mary's face as he kissed her long and hard. Aubrey only stopped when his back began to hurt from twisting to face Mary in his saddle.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's fine, Aubrey," Mary said to him, trying to catch her breath.

"I should have known that Miles might do something foolish like that. He wasn't always making the right decisions when he was younger."

"Would you forgive me as well?"

"For what? You did nothing wrong."

"But I did! I wouldn't talk to you after it happened."

"If I remember correctly, it was me who refused to speak to you." He took hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles one by one. Mary shivered and pulled some loose hair from her face with her free hand.

"Yes…but I made no effort to reconcile with you until this morning."

"That's hardly something to be apologizing for, but if it's what you want then I shall forgive you," Aubrey said. "What did you mean by 'this morning'?"

"I wrote you a letter yesterday. It took me forever to figure out the simplest letter I've ever written in my life. In fact, it is hardly even worth reading."

"But I shall read it, Mary, once I get my hands on it. Where might I find it?"

"I handed it to one of your servants this morning. I think I scandalized him at the early hour that I knocked on your front door."

"I shall take my leave then." Aubrey leaned in for one more kiss and Mary prepared herself, pursing her lips slightly. Instead, Aubrey kissed her on the cheek and turned his horse around. He bowed deeply with a huge grin on his face and touched the sides of his mount with his feet. Mary touched the wet spot on her cheek where he had kissed her, and she grinned. She hadn't needed to write a letter at all to get him running after her. He had come by his own volition.

* * *

Aubrey stumbled into the house after leaving his horse standing unattended in the stable yard. He went into the parlor and looked for the silver tray that usually bore any letter that arrived at Lakewood. There it was, thin and folded neatly on the tray. The corners were crinkled and the seal was sloppy. Aubrey broke it with his thumb and quickly read it. Mary's handwriting was, to his surprise, rather sloppy.

_My darling Aubrey,_

_I love you, and I hope that you will forgive me for unintentionally leading your cousin Miles on. I wasn't thinking so well because you were too much on my mind. I hope to see you at my brother-in-law's birthday celebration in the coming week. _

_Yours forever,_

_Mary Bennet_


	13. Chapter 13

Mary and Georgiana stood on tiptoes trying to catch a glimpse of the Waylands over the crush of people surrounding them. "It is utterly impossible to find anyone in this mess," Mary muttered crossly.

"You know the entire county was expecting invitations to my brother's party," Georgiana replied. "It would surely offend many families if Fitzwilliam had had a small gathering. Oh how they'd talk about it for weeks!"

"I wouldn't care what others thought of me if I were your brother. We ought to go sit down and let them come to us. My feet are already aching." Mary took hold of her sister-in-law's puffed sleeve, following her as she made her way carefully to a group of chairs along the wall. To their dismay they were all occupied.

Before they could turn away one of the occupants spoke. He was a handsome fellow with a deep red jacket on. "You may take our seats, ladies," he said, gesturing to where he and another young man sat. They both stood up and helped the girls into the chairs. By the time they left, both girls had been asked for a dance.

"That was kind of them," Georgiana said. She looked at their retreating backs, a faint blush painting her face.

"Yes," Mary said absently. She then turned to Georgiana. "Do you suppose they'll be arriving soon?"

"Mary, you don't have to ask me that. Nothing would keep them—or Aubrey—away from Pemberley tonight." They both fell silent and watched as more guests crammed themselves into the large room. Mary caught sight of Anne de Bourgh trailing behind her lavishly gowned mother. She wore a yellow silk gown that showed her complexion off poorly. They both saw each other at the same time, and Mary could see something akin to relief on the older girl's face. She gestured her over to where they sat.

"Thank you, Mary," Anne said, sinking down into the seat beside her that someone had vacated for her. "I knew you'd be here but I thought I would never find anyone, what with _all_ these people."

"It was no trouble, Anne. Tell me, how have you been since we last saw each other?" Mary asked. She flicked her fan open and flipped it before her face to fling the heat away that was clinging to her.

"I had a dreadful cold so I was not able to get out much—not that Mother would let me anyway. If I weren't so pale this gown wouldn't look so ghastly on me. I don't know what she was thinking when she had me fitted for it," Anne complained laughingly. She seemed to be in better spirits than she had been at Georgiana's birthday celebration.

"It isn't too terrible," Georgiana said hesitantly. "Though the color isn't right it still shows your figure off rather well. Mine shows the _lack_ of one."

"No matter our figures," Mary interrupted. "I shall find us some drinks."

"You can't carry all three by yourself," Georgiana said, getting up to help.

"I shall manage." Mary was already weaving her way through the room, hoping that while she looked for the drinks she really wasn't thirsty for that she would spot Aubrey. She found the table with the bowls set out and she filled three glasses. She was arranging them in her arms when someone appeared at her side.

"Could I help you with that?" he asked. Mary's heart leapt but then settled down when she realized it was the young man in the red jacket.

"Thank you," she said as he took one of the glasses along with one for himself. They were stopped in their progress back to the chairs by a large lady with white feathers fixated in her hair.

The man with her introduced himself as Duncan York. He had a slight accent that hinted at Irish origins. "Who was that young lady with you earlier?" he asked.

"Georgiana Darcy. It is her brother's birthday that we celebrate tonight," Mary replied.

"Ah, so she's wealthy I gather?" he sighed despondently.

"You know, most people like that sort of thing." Mary wondered at the odd expression playing out on Mr. York's face.

"I suppose…" They came to the chairs once again and once the drinks were distributed he melted away and was gone.

"Who was that?" Anne asked curiously. She sipped delicately from her cup.

"He calls himself Duncan York. He's quite polite," Mary answered, sinking down into her chair. "He asked me if you were wealthy, Georgiana."

Georgiana's face went blank and she looked disappointed. "I'll have to dance with him later. I hate that, having to dance with people only interested in my material possessions. And he was so kind to us when he gave up these chairs."

Anne leaned forward and shyly placed her gloved hand on her cousin's arm. "I don't think that's what it is. Maybe he…" Mary drew away from the conversation, eyes scanning the room. She thought she caught a glimpse of Aubrey's tousled hair, but it was only someone else.

She suddenly grew aware of the graduate silencing of the room. She swiveled her head with the rest of the people, her eyes resting upon the dashing figures of her brother-in-law and Elizabeth stepping carefully down the marble stairs. He was the man of the evening, of course, but Mary's 

sister seemed to glow in her blue silk. They left the stairs and led the way into the room with the vaulted ceilings and sparkling chandeliers where the dancing would begin.

"Your sister looks lovely," Anne said in whispered tones to Mary. She lowered her eyes after a quick glance at the handsome couple as they disappeared into the other room. Her face was only slightly flushed as if she were embarrassed. Mary wondered if the young woman actually held something in her heart for Mr. Darcy—that she had actually wanted the old family-induced "engagement" between them to happen. The thought was astonishing and sad. Mary mentally decided to get Anne's mind off of him and to other things, such as the dancing and food.

* * *

"I'm not very good at it, Georgiana," Anne said. Panic filled her eyes when she saw Georgiana disappear to find her a willing partner. "I'll step all over him."

"I don't think you should worry," Mary said reassuringly.

"But I can't help it. Mother sent for a dancing instructor for me when I was younger. She wanted me to start early in refining myself for Fitz—for my future husband." Anne's eyes darted nervously as the musicians began to tune their instruments for the first dance. "I only had two weeks of training, and after that she gave up all hope in me. Mr. Peterson—my instructor—he believed I would get it eventually, but Mother thought otherwise. My "delicate condition" that she speaks of all the time helps to explain for my social awkwardness."

"You know, if you don't want to dance you don't have to. We won't force you to," Mary said. "Have you ever tried dancing with a man before?"

Anne went pink. "Well…only Mr. Peterson. He counts doesn't he? And, and I danced with Fitzwilliam a few times."

"I suppose they count a little, but you've never danced with a stranger."

"I don't see how that's any better," mumbled Anne. She stiffened when she saw Georgiana approach with a man in tow behind her. He wore spectacles over soft brown eyes and they were perched precariously on his nose. He bowed smartly and proffered his hand to Anne after an introduction. She hesitantly took his arm and he led her away.

"Who was that?" Mary asked, for she had not been listening. Where was Aubrey? She fanned at her face once again. The music was to start soon and couples were beginning to line up.

"Mr. Barrow," Georgiana replied. "He seems nice. Fitzwilliam spoke highly of him a week or so ago. I hear his dancing is supportable enough but nothing to boast about."

"That will do well for Anne, then."

Mr. York walked over with his friend. "We saw you were without partners and we came to rescue you," he said. Georgiana shut her fan with a snap and smiled. She nodded without saying a word and Mr. York took her away. His friend led Mary to where the others were lined up. She looked over her shoulder for any sign of Aubrey, but was disappointed when the music commenced and she was pulled into the sway of the dance.

* * *

Aubrey watched from the wall as someone took Mary away. He had tried to get to her, and he even called out to her a few times. The room was much too full, and he wondered if Fitzwilliam was comfortable in such a setting. He decided to wait until the set was done, and then he'd grab hold of her and not let go for the rest of the evening. People might talk, but he didn't mind for they were going to be married.

The thought of finally being with Mary set his heart racing. Then something dawned on him. He hadn't asked Mr. Bennet for his daughter's hand. That would mean talking with him and it would eventually get to his wife. And that'd mean the woman would jabber at him again. He hadn't told Mary that her mother was hard to tolerate, and he didn't think he was going to. She probably already knew anyway.

He found himself near the refreshments and helped himself to one. The silver ladle was cold to the touch and disappeared into the red liquid as he filled his cup to the brim. Some young girl fluttered by with a boy on her arm, and she bumped into Aubrey's elbow. His cup fell to the floor with a clatter and juice spattered onto his left sleeve. He cursed and dabbed at the cloth with his handkerchief.

Just as he stuffed the handkerchief back into its pocket Lady Catherine approached. She narrowed her eyes as she neared him. "I'm terribly off my feet with this heat, Mr. Wayland," she said, eyes darting to the bowl suggestively.

"Would you like me to fill a cup for you?" Aubrey asked her. She thanked him for thinking of her and took it into her gnarled hands after he had poured.

"You do not like to dance, Mr. Wayland?" she asked pointedly. "My daughter does not dance herself. She is as fine a dancer as anyone—better even—but she does not care much for such trivial things."

"I love to dance, Lady Catherine," he said. "And if I'm not mistaken, Miss de Bourgh dances right now with a Mr. Barrow."

"Truly?" Lady Catherine asked, clearly surprised. She thought her daughter hated to dance. "I suppose he imposed upon her then…or she was inclined to it since the music is so fine. She sometimes takes to it—she doesn't hate it. Did I tell you she paints?"

"No, no you did not."

"She does the prettiest landscapes you'll ever see," sighed Lady Catherine. _If the girl actually was talented at anything then I wouldn't have to match make for her_, she grumbled to herself.

"I'm sure she does, Lady Catherine," Aubrey said into his cup as he took a drink and looked towards the ballroom. The music had to end soon or he would never get away.

"She has such an eye for colors and lighting…." Lady Catherine's voice faded away as Aubrey grew bored with her chatter. He happened to spot a couple come through the door still wrapped in traveling cloaks. They were followed by some of the household servants who held luggage in their arms. Lady Catherine followed Aubrey's gaze when she realized that he wasn't listening to her anymore. The couple was handsome, and they looked dead on their feet.

"Who on earth could they be? They're terribly late; they shouldn't have come at all," Lady Catherine said. She stepped forward and took a good look at them as some light from the lobby fell upon their faces. "Gracious! It's Mr. Bingley and that Bennet girl he married!"

"It looks like they've been traveling hard," Aubrey observed.

"Indeed! They can't come to a ball dressed like that! And looking like that!" cried Lady Catherine. Her fan whipped open and she jerkily waved it in front of her face. "I must stop them before they ruin my nephew's ball." She lurched forward to meet up with them, but, to her shock, Aubrey took hold of her arm.

"I think they've come to surprise Fitzwilliam," he said quietly, explaining his sudden action.

"Unhand me, you upstart boy," Lady Catherine hissed. "No gentlemanly man would handle a woman of genteel birth like that. My Anne hardly deserves such a husband!"

Aubrey blinked in surprise as the woman shook his arm off and marched to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley as they were relieved of their wraps. Mr. Bingley's pretty wife wore a polite look on her face as she bore the brunt of Lady Catherine's voice.

"…can't just waltz in here, Mrs. Bingley," Lady Catherine said as Aubrey approached. "It just isn't done." Mr. Bingley looked too shocked to say a word at the sight of the agitated matron before him. He slumped in relief as he saw Aubrey approach them.

"I gather you've come to surprise Fitzwilliam, Mr. Bingley" Aubrey said after he introduced himself.

"Yes, but it began to rain quite badly an hour or so ago and our carriage became stuck in the mud just a few miles back," said Mr. Bingley.

"We've arrived too late, haven't we?" Mrs. Bingley asked.

Lady Catherine stood beside her with a scowl on her face. "Of course you have," she said.

As a new piece of music was started Mr. Bingley took his wife's arm in his. "I think we should find our rooms and then rest a little. Fitzwilliam doesn't need to know about us just yet. But when he does it'll be jolly! He never expected us here, you know. I told him we'd be too bogged down with business to travel to Pemberley." He grinned with his wife.

"You won't tell anyone, will you, Mr. Wayland?" asked Mrs. Bingley. He said no and they hurried away before they could be found out.

"Well!" Lady Catherine huffed. "Those Bennet girls are always thinking up schemes. I can't understand why Fitzwilliam married Miss Bennet—Anne was to be his you know."

"I heard," Aubrey said. He walked in the direction of the ballroom, hoping that with the next set he would be with Mary. Lady Catherine marched after him.

"My daughter is entirely free of any obligation to anyone, Mr. Wayland," she said with raised brows. "I expect her to marry only the best, and I'll forgive you your lapse of manners."

"You're very generous, Lady Catherine, but I'm not interested in who it is that marries Miss de Bourgh."

"Oh!" cried Lady Catherine. Her hand went to her throat in shock and her eyes bugged out. "You're very insolent to me, Mr. Wayland. Perhaps I was wrong to forgive you for being so rude to me earlier."

"Perhaps you were," Aubrey said with a grin.

"Well! Your mother must've had trouble raising such a boy as you."

"Quite the opposite, your ladyship. I was an angel compared to some."

"Don't take that sarcastic tone with me, young man. I won't have it!"

Aubrey bowed deeply. "Forgive me."

"Your arrogance comes from spending too much time with that Bennet girl. What's her name? Mariah?"

"Her name is Mary, and there isn't a trace of arrogance in her. She is, in fact, an angel."

Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes. "She has no talent for singing."

"She can play the piano like a dream, though," Aubrey replied, getting angry. "Just because Mary Bennet is related to the woman who stole Fitzwilliam from your daughter doesn't mean you have to dislike her."

"All those Bennet girls are conniving and scheming people! They set out to ruin all my plans, and I won't have it this time."

"Pray, what are your plans this time, Lady Catherine?" Aubrey asked innocently.

"Since you've taken such a shine to my daughter I only assumed you would be asking for her hand."

"I have no affection at all for Miss de Bourgh. I hardly know her."

"I can't believe that, for she is full of graces and is very accomplished."

"I wouldn't care if she could sing opera, Lady Catherine. I have no interest in her, and I would like it very much if you stopped shoving her into my face. It's embarrassing to her and to me. You of all people should know your own daughter."

"I know her better than anyone, Mr. Wayland, and I know for a fact that she loves you."

"The only person I love is Mary Bennet, and nothing you throw at me will change that. Good evening, Lady Catherine." Aubrey bowed and walked away with a large grin on his face. Sure, the gossipmongers would be talking about it for days, but he was finally rid of her and that was all that mattered at the moment.

* * *

"Thank you, but I must sit down, Mr. Wyndham," Mary said. The man bowed and was gone, leaving Mary to find a seat before she collapsed into tears. She wasn't exhausted at all, but the thought of Aubrey not being there was ruining the evening for her. Couples were gathering for the next dance and Mary looked forlornly at them.

She sat down in a chair and happened to catch a glimpse of a fuming Lady Catherine yelling at a servant to fetch her something to drink. Mary giggled, but then stopped. Though the woman was demanding and uncouth she deserved some kindness. She couldn't help the way she was brought up.

Someone sat in one of the empty chairs nearby and cleared their throat. Mary didn't look at once, but when they stood and took the seat closest to her she couldn't help but glance up.

"Hello, Mary," he said. Mary looked down at his hands in a fit of shyness and noticed faint red stains on his cuffs.

"You're a little late," she said.

"Not late, but I was caught up with something. Would you like to dance now?"

"Yes, please." They got up and joined in with those lined up.

As they danced Aubrey decided to bring up the subject of her father. "I haven't asked him yet," he said.

"You should. He'll be happy for me—for us. I'm sure about it," Mary said. They separated momentarily and then rejoined hands.

"Should I speak with him this evening? After we dance?" Aubrey asked.

"That would be fine," Mary said serenely. If she closed her eyes right then she thought she would find herself in heaven.

"But—but I haven't made up a speech yet."

"You don't need one. Just go up to him and ask if you have his permission to marry me. Fairly simple I think."

"I don't think so. What if he says no? Darcy's richer than me and so is Mr. Bingley. I can hardly match up to them."

Mary laughed. "Aubrey, my father would be glad to give me to anyone who loves me. I fear he and my mother have despaired over my lack of suitors for a long time. It might even surprise them; it surprised _me_."

"It shouldn't have," Aubrey said. "You're the sweetest thing I know." Mary blushed. They didn't speak anymore until two dances later. They sat down with drinks to refresh themselves and Mary fanned herself furiously.

"Elizabeth looks happy tonight," Mary observed. "But I can't get over that scowl on Lady Catherine's face. Does she know it makes her look frightening?"

"I'm sure she doesn't," Aubrey replied with a wince. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so frank with the old woman.

"It's unfortunate Jane couldn't be here tonight. She so loves to dance."

"But she is—." Aubrey clapped his mouth shut with his hand.

"She is what?" Mary asked. Aubrey had never met her sister before…or had he? "Did you see her?"

Aubrey slumped his shoulders and nodded. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone."

"How wonderful!" Mary cried, standing up. Aubrey pulled her right back down.

"You're not to tell anyone. I was sworn to secrecy, but that obviously has done me no good. They are getting their rooms and resting now, so don't go looking for them."

"I won't. But isn't it so exciting? All my sisters will be here to hear the wonderful news about us."

"Don't forget about Lydia," Aubrey mentioned. Mary's face fell. "Will you write a letter telling her about it?"

"Mother will make me. She hasn't heard from Lydia in ages and won't write to her at all. Instead she makes me do the writing and hangs over my shoulder the entire time. Maybe this'll bring Lydia laughing all the way down from the north."

"She wouldn't laugh, would she?"

"I don't know anymore. We haven't seen her for quite some time—maybe Mr. Wickham changed her. Living in poverty would do that to anyone accustomed to being coddled by their mother."

"She's poor? I thought Mr. Wickham had a place in the army over there."

"Not anymore, and they aren't _too_ desperate for money. The last we heard from Lydia was when she sent a letter bemoaning the discharge of her darling Wicky. He had been found with some officer's wife and got into a brawl. He—he was without his trousers." Aubrey couldn't stop the laughter that burst from his mouth. Mary tried to frown but couldn't. She rolled her eyes.

Mary grinned at Olivia who swept by with a tall gentleman in the midst of the country reel. "That looks fun," Mary said, wriggling her feet underneath the cover of her hem.

"Let's join them then," Aubrey said. He grabbed Mary's hands and pulled her forward. She tried to resist but he wouldn't let her.

"We'll knock into everybody!" she laughed.

"Not with my superior skills we won't," Aubrey said excitedly. He paused before hurling them into the circling mass of dancers. Mary only received a knock or two to her elbow before they were completely in.

* * *

"Sit up straight. No husband wants a slouching lady for a wife." Anne winced as her mother jabbed her in the middle of her back. She stiffened her spine and wiped at the dance-loosened curls on her forehead.

"I don't think they care whether my posture is perfect or not, Mother," Anne said sullenly.

Lady Catherine's eyes widened at her daughter's out-of-character impudence. "They do. You would not know, but I do because of my experience with the other sex. And don't you get all uppity with me. I've had enough of it from Mr. Wayland and I don't need it from you."

"Mr. Wayland?" asked Anne aghast.

"Don't speak of him to me, Anne. He doesn't deserve you in the least. Let him marry that wretched Bennet girl," Lady Catherine bitterly said. "Loves her indeed!"

"Did he say that?" Anne asked.

"Oh yes! And he said it rather angrily, too. I wouldn't know why he would take such a tone with _me_—the upstart young man. Don't slouch." Another jab. Anne ignored it. She was happy for Mary and Aubrey. She hoped that Mr. Barrow thought her pleasant enough and that he'd forgive her for stepping on his toes. He had laughed at the clever comments—at least she thought they were—she made, and he even danced with her a second time. She was glad she had taken a chance in dancing with a stranger. It made life seem less dreary.


	14. Chapter 14

Georgiana found herself the center of attention. Dozens of eyes fixated on her hands as they pressed on the keys of the piano set before them. She played a piece that her brother once admired. It was not one composed by Mozart or any other such famous musician. Instead, Georgiana had created it herself one day when she was a younger girl just after Mr. Wickham was sent away from her. She was saddened by his departure at first, but then she saw the wisdom of her brother's decision to send the scoundrel packing. With freshly healed wounds to her heart she composed the piece as a reminder to her that, though she had gone through a trying time, she was still loved by her only brother.

Georgiana chanced a peek at her brother who turned the pages for her. He smiled warmly down at her, eyes shimmering with tears. The love she felt in her heart for her brother warmed her thoroughly throughout and she knew he wanted no other gift than to see her happy in life.

That meant she didn't have to give him those riding boots, but she was going to anyway. He had complained bitterly at the cracked soles of his previous pair and wanted nothing more than to see them fixed. Of course, he was too lazy to turn his attention to getting them repaired, so Georgiana took it upon herself to see to it that they were worked on. And she decided to have them lined with wool to keep his feet warm. Georgiana grinned at the thought of the boots sitting in a box in her room.

She couldn't help but laugh quietly as she hugged Fitzwilliam when she finished her piece. The guests applauded her performance. Someone called for Mrs. Darcy to come out and sing for them. Elizabeth blushed and protested, claiming nothing could compare to her voice but that of screeching seagulls. Laughter rolled over the crowd, and Elizabeth found herself being pushed to the front of the room.

"I'll sing only if Georgiana accompanies me," she said. It was decided upon, and though Mr. Darcy's wife's voice was not exceptional it was sweet. Afterwards she announced that dinner was to be served, and everyone piled out of the room to the dining hall. The plush velvet chairs were askew in their rows, and some young lady had left her golden embroidered fan behind.

Aubrey pulled Mary back into the room once it emptied. "Can't I do it tomorrow?" he pleaded, tugging at Mary's hands with each word.

She sighed heavily. "I don't care when you do it, Aubrey, as long as you do it. If this setting is too nerve-wracking for you then wait until tomorrow. Father will be at his leisure in the library no doubt, puttering over who knows what."

"I'm not a coward, you know."

"Yes."

"Yes, as in I am one? Or that you agree with me?"

"Either one will do," Mary said with a shrug. She stepped away to join those assembling for dinner, but Aubrey stopped her with his hand on hers. He tugged her over to him, holding onto her waist loosely as he planted a kiss soundly onto her mouth.

"I'll go to him right now," Aubrey stated. He struck a pose beside Mary that made her laugh as he strutted out of the room. She calmed herself down, slowed her breathing and went to find where it was that she was seated. She hoped it would be near Aubrey.

* * *

"You want to know what good fishing places there are in _Meryton_?" Mr. Bennet asked the young man standing before him in the empty library.

"Yes," Aubrey said. His palms had instantaneously decided to sweat at the same time when Mr. Bennet decided to talk with him.

"And you didn't want anyone overhearing us?"

"N—no," stammered Aubrey. "Some people are competitive fishers. They don't want others hearing about the best places to fish. I'm one of those sorts. It's a hobby of mine, you see."

"Ah."

"So…what are they?"

"I think the lake near the Lucas's is well-stocked—but, why would you be fishing in Meryton, my boy, when there are better prospects out here in Derbyshire?"

Aubrey rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and groaned. This was not going well at all. When he first asked about fishing he imagined Mary looking at him in disbelief. She would laugh, for certain she would. He groaned again.

"Are you alright, Mr. Wayland?" Mr. Bennet asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder in concern.

"I think so, Mr. Bennet," he replied. He tugged once at the hair on his head and then resolved to just get to the point. "I was just lamenting my—um, my conversation skills."

"Are they lacking?"

"In many ways, Sir, but most certainly tonight they are lacking. If you hadn't already guessed I didn't drag you here to chat about fishing."

Mr. Bennet snorted and then pulled at his cravat. "Don't mind me, but Mrs. Bennet insists on perfection of the cravat—I can't stand it though. So what did you really want? To ask for Kitty's hand?"

Aubrey nearly choked on his spit. Kitty? "Heavens above no!—not that Miss Kitty isn't nice," he hastily added. He stilled his words when he saw the shocked eyebrows that raised an inch or two on the elder gentleman's brow.

"Well then…is it about Mary? Is it Mary's hand you want?" Mr. Bennet looked suspiciously at Aubrey. He never thought someone would choose Mary over his prettier daughter Kitty.

"Y—yes. Miss Kitty is an…an exceptional young lady, but she's—."

"She's damnably silly. I agree. But Mary? She's silly, too, you know. She always broods over those large volumes in the parlor room and says some of the oddest things."

"She's charming, Mr. Bennet. And her music is amazing."

"It certainly has improved over the years," Mr. Bennet mused. He took one look at Aubrey and then he folded himself into a nearby chair. His fingers latched onto each other and rested upon his knee. He looked pointedly at Aubrey; the young man nearly tripped in his haste to sit in the remaining chair.

"I'm assuming she knows of your intentions."

"Yes, Sir," Aubrey replied.

"So you love her?"

"Deeply, Sir."

"And you'll look after her and make sure there's a roof over her head?"

"Of course. I'm no pauper, Sir, but I have nothing in comparison to Mr. Darcy's sizeable wealth."

"That's beside the point, Mr. Wayland. It doesn't matter how much money you have—it just matters that you have some." His frank words took Aubrey aback and he knew why some people in society thought the Bennets crude. "You won't abandon her."

"No, Sir."

"Good then," Mr. Bennet said. He stood up, patted Aubrey on the shoulder. "I'll talk to Mary now if you don't mind."

"Perhaps you should wait after dinner."

"Why?" Mr. Bennet crooked an eyebrow at him.

"People will notice."

"And you are embarrassed at the fact?"

"No, but some may perceive it as a slight to Mr. Darcy's good name." Someone like Lady Catherine he thought but didn't say aloud.

"Ah." Mr. Bennet nodded and agreed to a meeting after the food had been eaten. Aubrey thought that with food in his stomach his hands would stop their trembling and he'd be in better shape to confront Mary's father. He opened his eyes that he had shut in relief earlier to find himself alone in the room. Did that actually happen? Had he talked to her father already?

* * *

Relief was etched in Aubrey's face. Mary could see in plainly and she wanted to run to him and have him hold her. It appeared that things went well between her father and Aubrey. She had yet to be approached by her father, but she knew he'd be glad for her. She lifted her eyebrows in Aubrey's direction as if telling him 'Now that wasn't so hard, was it?'. He shrugged and took his seat which happened to be at the table directly behind hers.

The best part of the evening, besides that fact that Aubrey had gathered his guts and laid himself bare before her father, was the surprise and laughter that followed the entrance of Jane and Mr. Bingley into the room. They took their seats next to the Darcy's, hoping that word had not yet reached them about their sudden arrival.

Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth came in to the sounds of a well-wishing song upon everyone's lips. They raised their glasses in the air and cheered as they took their seats. Mr. Darcy had a faint flush to his cheeks as if he were uncomfortable with the attention piled upon him. His wife gathered his arm in hers and stood with him as everyone finished singing. Then her gaze fell upon the couple sitting right next to them.

"Jane!" she cried out. Elizabeth was instantly at her sister's side pulling her into a hug so tight that Jane's face began to turn a little red. Mary breathed a sigh of relief when her mother showed sense enough not to jump up to go to her eldest daughter…that or her father had taken hold of her mother before she could jump up.

Once greetings were exchanged everyone finally sat down and dug into the food piled before them in bowls and set upon large silver trays. Georgiana sat next to her brother at the main table where Mary was at with her family and the odious Lady Catherine.

* * *

"Would you like some of these potatoes, Mother?" Anne asked. She pointed at the crispy golden potatoes seasoned with colorful spices and vegetables.

"No, Anne, I would not," Lady Catherine replied.

"What about the dumplings? They are very delicious, especially with—."

"Anne, I am in no mood to discuss what's delicious or not. What's most important is that you get married, and since you take no pains in finding yourself a husband you are destined to being a spinster."

Anne said glumly in reply: "I thought _you_ were looking for me." She snapped a potato from her fork with her teeth and swallowed it whole. She noisily gulped it down with some wine.

Lady Catherine rolled her eyes. "Eat like that one more time and we will leave. I won't have you embarrassing yourself. And no man would want to marry a woman who…."

Anne shut her mother's voice out as she so often did when she ranted on and on about her marriage prospects. As far as she knew no one was interested, and though it saddened her slightly she was not dreading the future. Once expectations were dropped in that area then Anne could do as she wished. Perhaps she would learn to play the piano or maybe she would travel somewhere—alone and without that nagging presence beside her all the time.

Anne craned her head forward to see if she could spot Mr. Barrow amongst the many people seated at the tables. She spotted his glasses as they caught the light and sent it out in a glisten. She didn't know if he was aware of her study of him but he turned his head just so and caught her eye. He offered her a smile from the corner of his mouth and Anne instantly turned away from his gaze. How was she supposed to react? Georgiana would know, but she was in an earnest conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam about some book.

Anne looked for him again but was disappointed. She was unable to catch his eyes once more, and it would probably stay that way. No wonder she was nowhere near getting married. One look and she froze up like a rabbit playing dead.

"Don't let your food get cold," her mother loudly said in her ear. Anne held her wince back and returned to eating. She hoped they had some kind of sorbet to eat that would calm her nerves. A sudden laugh at the head of the table brought Anne's attention to Mr. Darcy. He certainly looked dashing with his thick hair swept back and his well-tailored jacket.

Something plopped into Anne's plate of potatoes and she nearly jumped out of her skin in shock. It was a crumpled piece off of someone's handkerchief. She unfolded it whilst sneaking peeks at everyone around her. No one looked guilty of throwing anything at her. It read: "I wish we were at the same table." For a moment her heart lurched and she found where Mr. Barrow was sitting again. He wasn't looking her way.

She looked over her shoulder to find Aubrey staring determinedly at her. He motioned to Mary a few times and then it became clear. He wanted her to give the note to Mary who was oblivious to their activity. She nodded, wiped it clear of food crumbs and nudged it into Mary's hand that rested on the table closest to her.

Anne kept her face blank but inside she couldn't help but grin as Mary read the note. Her eyebrows rose and she smiled at Anne. Then she quickly turned her head to mouth something to Aubrey. Anne couldn't help but feel a little envious.

* * *

The dinner passed successfully. Everyone's stomachs were filled and satisfied. Some people had overindulged, and they were the ones who continued to sit at the tables and nurse their pains as others mingled in and out of the room. Since the party was a large gathering there were to be no handouts of gifts. Instead, only the closest of friends to the Darcy's gave Fitzwilliam something for his birthday.

Mary's family purchased for Mr. Darcy a large bottle of his favorite sandalwood cologne which Elizabeth had told them was starting to run out. It sat in his room upon his writing desk, wrapped and with a note attached to it proclaiming it from his parents-in-law.

Fitzwilliam was not ruminating over what others had bought for him and was instead talking earnestly with Mr. Bingley. They had not seen each other for months and a day was immediately set aside for hunting and fishing. Mr. Bennet, Mr. Wayland and his father were invited as well along with a few of the young men present at the party. Since all the men folk would be absent the next day the ladies decided upon a trek to the lake that sat nearby Pemberley nestled in the woods.

* * *

It was after all the guests left in their carriages for home that Mr. Bennet approached Mary. She was watching Jane and Elizabeth talk when he called for her. She suspected what he wanted to converse about and she began to feel giddy. Things were finally coming into completion. She hoped her mother would not have an apoplexy when she heard the news.

They were back in the dining room. Plates were still sitting out waiting to be cleared away and some fruit was left over in the bowls sitting at one of the tables. Mr. Bennet took a grape and popped it into his mouth. He stood as he chewed and looked his daughter over. She certainly wasn't the prettiest of his girls, but she seemed different from before. She looked happier and there was a color to her cheeks that had not been there months ago.

"Mr. Wayland approached me this evening, Mary," her father finally said.

"Yes." Mary nodded.

"We talked about fishing. He seemed very interested in it."

"Fishing?" Mary looked confused.

"He asked about fishing in Meryton—Lord knows why, but ask he did. We traded tips about fishing."

"That's all you spoke about?" she asked anxiously. Had Aubrey chickened out on her?

"Yes," Mr. Bennet said. "Oh, but there was something else…and it concerned you." The serious face of her father finally dissolved into a wide smile. His crooked teeth peeked out between his lips as he opened his arms to fold Mary into a hug. She nearly dove into them as tears gathered onto her eyelashes.

"Oh, Papa!" she burbled into his shoulder as his large hand patted the top of her head and mussed her hair up.

"You will be happy with him?" he asked. He took her gently by the shoulders and put her away from him.

"Yes, I will be," Mary replied, "perhaps too much so."

"It won't always be like that," Mr. Bennet warned her. She nodded, thinking of her mother and him. She saw the look in his eyes and knew he was thinking of the very same thing.

"Are you sure you wish to marry this man?" he asked her. "You're not just doing this because he's the first to ask you? Or because he's good-looking?"

"It is just a coincidence that he asked first, you know. Besides, I haven't been desperately thinking of my marriage like Mother has been. Had he not been the right man I would have not even bothered with him. But I _know_ Aubrey is who I wish to be married to forever."

"Money included." Mr. Bennet laughed.

"Of course. You need not worry about any of us, Father."

"I don't know how you girls managed it, but you all seem to have caught yourself quite the richest and finest catches this part of England has ever seen. Well, to us at least, anyway"

"Don't forget Lydia, Father."

His smile collapsed. "I nearly did, Mary. It shames me to think that at times I spare no thought for them. They are so far away and write so little it seems to us—at least to me sometimes—that they've melted out of existence."

"You're not the only one," Mary said and grinned mischievously. "Mother hardly mentions their lack of letters. She's so occupied with Elizabeth and her darling grandchild to even think."

Mr. Bennet snorted and then tried to look ashamed for doing so. They both shared a laugh at the change in the flighty mistress of Longbourn. Kitty was the last Bennet girl left, and, seeing how things went with her sisters, her mother would most likely set high standards in her search for her husband.

Mary opened the door to leave and was surprised to see Aubrey at her feet. He had been sitting with his back against the door waiting for their conversation to end, and when Mary got to the door he was put off guard and fell back. Mr. Bennet harrumphed and stepped around Mary and over his future son-in-law into the hall and went up the stairs nearby.

Mary took hold of Aubrey's hand and helped him up. He dusted himself off and leaned towards her. "I suspect all things went well?" he asked.

"Naturally, Mr. Wayland. I told you it would not be frightening," she said. She paused and then grinned at him suddenly.

"What?" Aubrey asked.

"He told me you like to fish."

"Ah," he said. His face turned bright red. "I may have been just a little nervous."

"It's fine because you entertained him. I think he likes your sense of humor."

"I wasn't trying to be funny." Mary was ready with her next line of attack when a sudden shriek echoed from upstairs. There was a furious pounding of feet moments later and Mrs. Bennet launched herself around the corner towards Mary and Aubrey. Aubrey's eyes went wide and he took a few steps back as she approached.

"Mary!" she cried, sobbing happily. Her face was awash with fat tears dribbling from her eyes. "Mary, Mary!" She took her daughter's hands and squeezed them.

Mrs. Bennet then turned to Aubrey. She grabbed his fingers with her plump hands and kissed him on the forehead. "Aubrey, welcome to the family," she said. "I'm…I'm…so thrilled!" She kissed him again and then went to her husband and took his arm, grabbing it and jiggling it in her excitement.

"Delighted are you, my dear?" Mr. Bennet asked his wife.

"Entirely so!" she sighed. Thinking she was whispering, she said to her husband: "I never thought this day would come—especially with Mary being so plain and odd."

Mary's face burned at the words, and she averted her eyes away from Aubrey's. Once her parents were gone she collapsed into tears. Aubrey stepped towards her in alarm. "What's wrong?"

Mary gulped and tried to compose herself. "It's jus—just that Mother never had mu—much faith in me. She—she never cared about me. Was always so busy with the others that…"

Aubrey knelt down beside her on the floor and took his handkerchief out. He ran it down her face, drying up her tears as best he could. She took it from him and blew into it with her nose. It dropped uselessly to the ground when she started crying again.

Aubrey didn't know what to do. "She loves you, Mary. And not just because you are getting married."

"Did you hear what she called me? Plain," Mary said bitterly, "and _odd_. Do you want to be stuck with someone like that?"

Aubrey was at a loss for words, so he said what came into his head first. "Yes."

"_What?_"

"I would like to marry you, no matter how odd you are. We're two of a kind you know," he said, "I didn't learn to ride a horse until three years ago because I was scared to death of them. My father was the most ashamed man in the county. When his friends' sons took part in horse races he hid at home, because he didn't want people to talk."

Mary laughed softly, breath puffing out from her mouth in tiny gasps. Aubrey continued. "Your mother was wrong on one thing. You are not plain, Mary."

"I'm not?" Mary wondered.

"No. You are what some would call a quiet beauty."

A smile wobbled its way across Mary's face. "Thank you."

"Now, do you want me or your mother telling everyone about us?" Aubrey helped Mary to her feet and they slowly walked to the stairs.

"You, of course," Mary said more steadily. "But I think it's too late for that. Mother probably already told America about it." Aubrey laughed; she was probably right.

* * *

After running over to her daughter and her fiancé, Mrs. Bennet had sped upstairs to her other girls and spouted it all out like an overflowing fountain. The only one remotely surprised was Jane. "Mary and Mr. Wayland?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes," Kitty said. "And even before me! I thought she would be the last, seeing how—."

"Kitty!" Elizabeth scolded her alone with Jane. She then went back to running her fingers through what little hair her baby had. Jane reached a finger out and tickled the bottom of the child's foot. It shrieked and threw the toy it held in its hand at Jane's head. It bonked off her 

head and rolled a few inches away. Kitty retrieved it and dangled it before the baby's face. It cooed as Kitty spoke sweetly to it.

"Do you want the little toy?" Kitty asked, wiggling it. The baby grabbed for it, giggling madly when it snatched it away.

Meanwhile, Jane rubbed her head, tears shimmering in her eyes. Why hadn't the child taken to her? She had always been good with kids, especially with Aunt Gardiner's brood.

"Are you hurt terribly?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm a bit sore, but I'm fine, really," Jane replied. Mary walked in and the rest of the evening was spent congratulating her. Anne was the first to retire, as her mother did not want her daughter overtaxing herself.

Lady Catherine had told her nephew that she would be staying for a week at Pemberley to allow time to recover from the journey from Rosings Park. The main purpose of staying was that Lady Catherine had wanted to snag Mr. Wayland for her daughter, but all had ended in utter failure. She hinted to Mr. Darcy that they might even be going home earlier than expected.


	15. Chapter 15

"Anne, where are you going?" Lady Catherine demanded of her daughter. She was sitting in one of the parlor rooms facing the rising sun. In her palm was a cup of tea and in the other was a crumbly biscuit. She seemed to glow from the light coming from the tall windows.

"I am going to practice painting," Anne replied. She supposed she oughtn't to lie to her mother, but how else would she be left alone for the morning?

"Have some tea, then, child, before you go—it'll ward off a chill." Lady Catherine held out another cup of tea towards Anne and gestured for her to sit on the settee beside her.

"I would, Mother, if I hadn't had some earlier this morning."

"You usually sleep in late, Anne. Are you alright?"

"I'm not dying, if that's what you were wondering, Mother."

Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed. "Sometimes I wonder at your manners, Anne. Don't talk like that to me again, or we will leave Pemberley even earlier. Now sit down."

"I told Georgiana I would meet her, and I'm already late." That at least was not a lie. She knew her mother would not approve of the visit to the lake so she had devised a plan where she would go painting outside with Georgiana for the morning with a small picnic. It was almost close to the truth.

"She isn't going to the lake with the others?" Lady Catherine asked approvingly.

"No, Mother. She does not feel up to such a long trek by foot." Anne didn't mention that they would all be going on horseback so the trip there and back would not be difficult.

"Well, I'm glad some of these girls have enough sense to know what's proper and what's not. You must not keep Miss Darcy waiting, my dear. And do try to actually paint and not just slop something onto your canvas, Anne."

Anne smiled weakly and then darted out of the room. She was glad she had been wearing her cloak or her mother would have been appalled that underneath she was wearing a riding habit—one that was not hers. It was, in fact, one of Georgiana's. Anne's mother had stopped having such garments made for her daughter when she saw how ill and ungraceful she looked upon a horse.

* * *

"What kept you, Anne?" Georgiana asked of her cousin. She got up from her seat on a nearby stone wall and began to tie on her riding hat.

"I ran into my mother. I'm sorry, but it was painful. I never lie to her—not until now," Anne said, frowning a little.

"We won't be away for too long—she won't even know you were gone," Olivia reassured from her seat upon her horse, wearing a stylish green habit and hat with a jaunty feather tucked in the brim. "You needn't worry. Besides, we shall have ourselves a wonderful outing."

"Indeed we will! I had our cook pack some of the leftovers from yesterday, and they are as good as when they were fresh," Georgiana said.

"Shall we leave then?" Mary asked of Elizabeth who had been inside earlier trying to find where Jane had disappeared to. She had been asleep, exhausted from her and her husband's late night journey. Elizabeth dragged her from her bed and plied some hot tea and bread into her before getting her dressed. They were all finally gathered together at the stables with two of the household servants who would take care of the food and the setting up of their tent.

"All is ready," Elizabeth said just as Kitty appeared from the direction of the house. She was holding her fists on her hips, and her hat looked as if it had been rammed onto her head for her hair was flying in every direction.

"I was hoping you had not forgotten about me," she said waspishly, "but I see you all did."

Mary sighed and then gestured her sister towards a horse. "If you think you can muster the courage to get on that horse then you are welcome to come with us."

Kitty pulled her shoulders up and daintily stepped towards the mentioned horse. When it whickered pleasantly at her she flinched. She turned back to the others. "Couldn't I just ride with one of you?"

"It would not be seemly, Kitty," Jane pointed out. "What would happen if someone saw you astride a horse with your legs showing? Not only would your reputation be battered about but so would one of ours."

"I wouldn't dream of riding astride—I'd be sidesaddle just like the rest of you."

"You know that won't be easy, Kitty," Mary told her.

Kitty scowled and then suddenly smiled. "If you don't bring me I shall tell Mama. Don't tell me you aren't going to the lake on the sly to meet with the men when they are through with hunting, because I know otherwise. Now _that_ is not seemly at all, Jane."

Jane stared at Kitty in shock. "You wouldn't snitch on us, would you, Kitty?" Jane asked worriedly. "We are sisters after all."

"Yes, but sisters don't exclude each other from outings, do they, Jane?" Kitty asked sweetly, her dimples showing to perfection as she smiled.

Jane looked apologetically at the others and then shrugged. "At least put something suitable on for riding. And don't be getting caught when you go inside. Be quick about it, then."

Kitty jumped gleefully and ran back towards the house. Mary turned to her older sisters. "Wouldn't you both be considered chaperons? Both of you are married."

Elizabeth scowled. "I wish we'd thought of that. Ah well, Kitty has her mind set and she won't stop till it is satisfied. I don't see the harm any way."

"We could send her to find us some berries," Anne suggested hesitantly, "and then we could magically disappear." The young women all laughed pleasantly except for Jane.

"Kitty would be saddened to hear you jest so," she said. "She is not a complete bother you know, and if governed well she will turn out very well indeed."

"She will take no more 'governing', Jane," Mary said glancing upwards at the rustling trees and their silvery, dancing leaves above their heads. "Her ways are set."

"Well, at least we know she won't elope," Elizabeth muttered. The subject of their suddenly serious conversation skipped into view with a charming hat set atop her head. She curtsied at the women on the horses and went over to where Mary was.

Mary looked down from her perch on her horse and her smile turned southwards. "Must you?"

Kitty nodded rapidly and held her hands up to her sister quickly. "Hurry please. Your horse is looking at me." She even whimpered a bit.

"Are those my gloves, Kitty?" Mary asked suddenly, spotting her embroidered pair mischievously covering her younger sister's hands. There was already a smudge on them—a purple spot. Where had that come from?

"No they are not," Kitty replied breathlessly as she was pulled up onto the horse alongside Mary. "And if they were? What would you do?"

"I'd throw you from this horse, you thiefling."

"Oh, then most assuredly they are mine." Kitty grabbed Mary's waist tightly with her arms and buried her face into her sister's shoulder blade.

The horses were set to a fast pace as they made for the lake. Kitty bounced awkwardly at the back of Mary's horse, and she screwed her eyes shut. The sound of Olivia's horse behind them echoed through her ears and she began to breathe rapidly.

"Are we there yet, Mary?" she asked into her sister's back, her breath warming Mary's skin through her deep purple riding habit.

Mary nodded and then rolled her eyes. Of the people who had to be scared of horses Kitty seemed the least likely. She was a vivacious girl who seemed like the kind of person who would try her hand at anything. Obviously that was not true for the girl's grip on Mary's ribs was starting to cut her breathing off.

Anne was being joggled on her horse as well, but she was enjoying the sensation. Not the painful part anyway, but the one of flying. The trees whirred by her and the soft chitter of birds in the sky fell upon her hears playfully. She sighed and looked over at Mary and Kitty. She bit back a laugh at the sight of the pained older sister and the frightened one hanging on to her for dear life.

She was glad that she had met these girls, because life seemed brighter and her mother seemed less intimidating. All she had to do was imagine what silly things Kitty might say in retort to Lady Catherine's words, and she could survive those long rants about marriage and "carrying on the good name" from her.

* * *

They soon reached their destination: a clearing on one of banks of the lake that ran parallel to the woods. The servants had gone ahead of them by a few minutes and had already pitched the tent in the grass. Its white sides billowed in the wind and the blanket set beneath its shade was being tugged at by unseen fingers.

Mary stood by and watched amusedly as the blanket was ripped from the ground and blown into the air. One of the servants leapt after it as it tangled and spun on the surface of the ground. It was finally caught by Kitty who ran after it, her skirts blowing in front of her and her hat trying to tear itself off her head.

"It is a beautiful morning," Jane observed, appearing beside Mary to watch the preparations for the picnic unfold. "Kitty has certainly improved since I last saw her."

"Yes, but she is still a bundle of energy—hard to contain and tolerate at times," Mary said. "But, of course, she is not quite the annoyance she once was. In fact, she hasn't mentioned the militia or Bath at all for several years."

Jane laughed aloud. "Quite a leap from the past—for you as well."

Mary nodded, her cheeks infused with pink. "Things are well with me, Jane, and I like it. I don't have the urge to lecture people as I once did, though I do it often enough in my head and to Kitty."

"You didn't lecture _all_ the time," Jane said kindly. She bent down and found a seat on a fallen tree and tugged Mary after her. "May I ask you a question?"

"You may," Mary said curiously.

"Did you ever want to marry Mr. Collins?"

Mary nearly lost her seat. "Mr. Collins? Goodness…quite a question, isn't it? I suppose I once felt some affection for him. And I suppose it was because I thought no one else would have me. He liked all the things I liked, and he even complimented me on my voice, which I knew was sorely lacking even then.

"It was flattering to have someone talk to me in such a way, though I'm sure I imagined most of his admiration for me. Now I see he was just humoring himself because everyone else was avoiding him and I wasn't. I admit I cried when I heard he had proposed to Elizabeth. I realized that it was some sort of last chance to be with someone who understood me, and it had passed me by."

"But he didn't understand you, did he?" Jane asked. "I must say it shocked me when he so suddenly turned his affections from me to Lizzy to Charlotte. He certainly did not have love in mind—not true love at least."

"I don't think it even occurred to him to ask for my hand," Mary mused. She suddenly laughed. "I'm glad he didn't, though, or else I would not be betrothed to Aubrey."

"I was very surprised to find that you were engaged to Mr. Wayland," Jane said carefully. She scratched her chin thoughtfully and then smiled at her sister. "You always seemed the picky type to me."

"I may be picky, Jane, but it does not hinder me right now."

"Have you found it in your heart to delight in eating pork roast yet?" Jane asked teasingly.

"Not yet, and I swear I never shall." They laughed.

"The cook at Netherfield makes a very scrumptious roast, Mary, and I think you ought to test it out before you swear such things."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Yes it is, and if you want you may bring Aubrey along with you—you'll be married by then."

A shiver at the thought buzzed down Mary's spine. "I will be Mrs. Wayland. It sounds utterly foreign. Mrs. Wayland."

"Trust me, you'll get used to it. I live and breathe being Mrs. Bingley now. It is like second nature, Mary."

"Does it every tire you, living with someone else?"

"Sometimes, Mary, but most of the times it is absolutely wonderful." Jane blushed suddenly, her face blazing red. The same heat found itself on Mary's face, and both girls went to the tent to partake in the picnic that was finally laid out for them.

Kitty lay on her back with her head propped up on some pillows. She crossed her ankles, yanked her hat off and took a large bite into a slice of sugared apple pie. "I could eat pie for the rest of my life," she sighed, licking her fingers.

"Do you wish to be fat the rest of your life, Kitty?" Elizabeth asked. Kitty narrowed her eyebrows and continued to eat her slice of pie.

"Kitty, that is the same look my mother gives me when she is annoyed at me," Anne said teasingly, biting into her own piece of apple pie.

Kitty sat straight up with her mouth wide open. "It is not!"

Anne giggled and nodded. "You ought to be frightened," Elizabeth said.

Kitty huffed. "Do I truly look like her? I mean no offence, Anne, but that would terrible."

"It is alright," Anne said. "Though I still have some affection for my mother, I am sure I would never wish to look like her at her worst. And I assure you that you don't. I was only teasing."

"I am glad to hear that," Kitty said. "When do you suppose the men shall be around? This picnic is a tad boring."

"Kitty!" Jane cried in shock.

"I was told they would be gone a few hours, so they will probably be around noon," Olivia said, looking up from her hands. She had a sketchbook splayed out on her lap and her nub of a pencil had been scratching away at the thick drawing paper.

"I told Mother I would be out painting with you, Georgiana," Anne said suddenly.

"Shall we then?" Georgiana asked. "The light is perfect for it. The rest of you shall be our models. I am so glad I brought some things along or else you would have been outright lying to your mother, Anne."

"It may soften this sourness in my stomach," Anne said. "I can't begin to think what she'll do to me when she finds out where I am."

"_If _she finds out," Olivia pointed out. "Now, how shall you have us sitting?"

"That is as fine a pose as anything," Georgiana said, looking at the girls all splayed out on the blanket in leisure. She handed Anne a pad of paper and a brush. She set the paints up between them and immediately began. Anne swallowed nervously and dipped her dampened brush into a pot of paint. A drip splotched itself on the paper and Anne rubbed it with her finger, but it only spread itself out. She sighed, and then turned to the next sheet of paper.

Mary sipped at her cup of chilled tea and leaned her head back onto Kitty, who had dozed off and was snoring softly. Mary tickled her nose with a blade of grass, and she laughed in her sleep. "Mary, no moving!" Georgiana ordered. A crease had formed itself on the young woman's brow and she was looking somewhat frustrated. "The more you move, the less accurate this painting shall be."

"I don't think it matters for me," Anne sighed. "It already looks like a blob of color to me."

Georgiana leaned over to take a look. She squinted. "I can see the shapes of them, Anne. If you add some of the same colors here and here but with just a bit of a darker hue I'm sure it will be more apparent. In fact, I like it somewhat. It's odd but nice at the same time."

Anne grinned, pleased. "And I thought it looked like nothing. I see what you mean, though." Mary could hear the girls talking quietly about what colors to use where and how dark this and that should be. Their voices seemed to drift lazily off into the breeze, and all that remained to be heard by Mary was the lapping of the water in the lake against the bank and the muted sound of the wind.

* * *

Mary was jolted awake by the sharp crack of a gun coming from somewhere nearby in the woods. She rubbed her eyes and stretched herself out, the tips of her feet pointing outwards and her fingers curling as she yawned. She sat up and shook her head. She could hear voices amongst the trees, and that meant that the men were about to run into them.

She found that Anne, Olivia and Georgiana were by the lake dipping their feet in the water and chatting. Jane and Elizabeth were sound asleep against each other, and the sun was high up in the sky. It was around noontime, and Kitty was nowhere to be seen.

Mary walked over to the water and sat beside Georgiana. "Did you hear that?" she asked.

"Yes," Georgiana said. "Kitty ran off to meet them before we could stop her."

"We told her to be careful of bullets," Anne said. She flicked her fingers in the water, making clear, short-lived bubbles appear on the surface of the lake water. Her reflection shattered at the movements of her fingers and she could almost see it wink back at her. She smiled.

Sudden laughter brought her back to herself, and she whirled around to find that the men had come to join their picnic. Jane and Elizabeth had roused themselves and were patting their hair down with their hands. The blanket was large enough for the additional members, just as if the servants had known this little run-in would occur. Anne went to join them.

Some of the food was still left over, and the men were already digging into it, their guns laid aside and their muddy boots dirtying the blanket. Mary wandered over to where Aubrey sat and sank down beside him onto her knees into the space that he had scooted over to make for her.

"How has the hunting been?" Elizabeth asked all of them.

"Not very lucky, Lizzy," Mr. Darcy replied for them all. "The birds were still sleeping when we got out here. We woke up too early." The men laughed together and began to tell of their adventures in the wood.

"Darcy thought some shrub was a bird and he kept shooting at it in excitement," Aubrey told girls. "You ought to have seen him jumping, Mrs. Darcy. It was a sight to see."

"It was!" cried Mr. Bingley. "He looked like a little girl opening up a present and finding a lovely, beribboned new gown in it."

"I looked nothing like that," Mr. Darcy snorted. "I saw a bird, I'm telling you." The others joined in to deny that he had found anything at all.

Georgiana was overcome with shyness or else she would have been delighted to hear of her brother's embarrassing tale. Mr. York was sitting beside Aubrey and drinking tea from a cup that Jane had handed to him. He wasn't looking at Mr. Darcy as everyone else was but at Georgiana instead. She smoothed her face to look as if she was engaged in the story, but she couldn't help but look again and again at Mr. York. There was a scratch on his forehead. She wondered if it hurt him terribly.

"I tried to shoot something for you, Mary," Aubrey said, turning towards her. "Sorry."

"A shrub would have been alright any day," she said. Aubrey laughed and threw some tea down his throat. "Would you like some cake? It's the kind you kept eating last night."

"Yum," Aubrey said, widening his eyes in excitement as Mary got a piece for him. "Thank you, my lady." He bowed, taking her hand by the fingers and kissing her palm lightly. He enjoyed watching as her tell-tale blush found its way to her face. He wondered if she would ever stop blushing when he kissed her. Mary looked away and pursed her lips, drawing his attention to them. He sighed and took a bite of his cake.

"What's this?" he asked, finding Olivia's sketchbook hidden amongst the folds of the blanket. He flipped it open and lazily looked at each page. One sketch caught his eye and he looked closely at it. It was one of Mary and a few of the others lying on the blanket. They looked so peaceful and he marveled at the accuracy of the sketch. Mary looked so life-like in it, tucked into the corner of the page with her head resting upon her sister as she slept. His heart ached suddenly at the thought of watching Mary sleep, and he shut the book suddenly and put it back where he had found it.

"Anything worthwhile?" Mary asked curiously.

"Just some trees and such," Aubrey replied absently. He noticed his friend Mr. York gazing at Georgiana. And she was gazing right back at him. Aubrey gathered himself as he stood up and held his hand out to Mary. She took it firmly and he pulled her up to her feet.

"We shall go on a walk," he said. Elizabeth nodded and watched as her younger sister and her young man ducked from underneath the tent.

Aubrey took Mary's arm and tucked it tightly in his elbow. They strolled alongside the lake in all its splendor. The flowering foliage and the sharp smell of water wafted in the wind like a heady perfume. Aubrey stopped abruptly and plucked some flowers from the grass, and he stuck them behind Mary's ears and into her hair. "Charming," he announced. She smiled up at him and returned the favor with a few Black-eyed Susans.

"Equally charming," she said. She tucked her hand into his and she tugged at it, walking ahead of him. They continued to amble and enjoy the sun beating down upon them in dapply patches as they passed underneath low-hanging tree branches and tall bushes.

"When shall we marry?" Aubrey asked.

Mary swallowed nervously. "I don't know."

"Soon, I hope?" Aubrey replied, squeezing her hand gently.

"Hopefully," Mary said softly. "Mother might want otherwise. She'll definitely want me to go to London to purchase the rest of my wedding trousseau. Mine is currently a sad little bundle of plain sheets. There was never any hope for me, if you remember."

"Ah, the famous wedding trousseau," Aubrey drawled out. Mary blushed at the thought of purchasing nightgowns that Aubrey would one night see her in.

"It can't be helped," she said shyly.

"Yes, but afterwords then? Will we be getting married soon after that?" Aubrey spun her around to face him. His hands cupped her face and he looked earnestly at her. She nodded and he responded with a kiss. Mary wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her fingers traced random patterns through his hair, dislodging the flowers she had placed there.

Aubrey pulled away, looked once more at her and then drew her into a tight squeeze of a hug. "I do love—." A sudden wet splat noise came out of nowhere and Aubrey jumped out of Mary's arms. He cried out and began pawing at the side of his face with his handkerchief.

"Are you alright, Aubrey?" Mary cried out. She stepped forward with a hand stretched out towards her fiancé, the other hand held at her throat in surprise.

Aubrey's shoulders began to shake as he turned round to face Mary. She saw a streak of something white and slightly purple on the right side of his face. "A bird has relieved itself on me, Mary," Aubrey said mournfully, trying not to laugh. Mary burst out in laughter, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she giggled uncontrollably.

"Rotten timing, eh?" Aubrey said jokingly. He leaned over and dipped his handkerchief in the lake to wash out the berry-laden bird poop. Mary knelt beside him and used her own square of linen to wipe the remaining stuff from his face.

Once it was washed off she patted his head. "All gone."

"Shall we get back to the others before the rest of the bird population finds their way to me?" Aubrey asked. He helped Mary up and together they went quickly back to the tent.

"You won't tell anyone of this, will you?" he asked somewhat worried.

"I don't know. It certainly is more entertaining than the story about Darcy and the shrubbery," Mary replied.

"Yes," Aubrey said, "and that is why it must remain our little secret."


	16. Chapter 16

"Shall we try again, Georgiana?" Olivia asked of her friend. They sat across each other underneath the tent, wind teasing their hair and ruffling the edges of the blankets.

Georgiana nodded vigorously. "Please. I will beat you yet, you cheater." She rearranged the game pieces on the checkered board, placing each carved piece deliberately. She looked at Olivia with narrowed eyes; her friend stared solemnly back.

"I never play falsely," Olivia said in mirth, "I just read your mind. A parlor trick, I assure you, that anyone can do."

Georgiana rolled her eyes playfully, finishing up with the board. "Will you be white or black?"

Olivia sighed. "Black—I'll let you start this time." Georgiana snatched at a white marble pawn and slipped it forward two paces on the board. Olivia smirked and did the same.

Mr. York, who lay sprawled out on the other end of the blankets, watched them with amusement. He pulled his hunting hat lower on his head to disguise the fact that his eyes were on Miss Darcy.

She had long ago set her bonnet aside, letting her hair catch what wind came her way. He could smell something sweet, which he was sure was coming from the patch of flowers nearby, but he allowed himself to imagine that she smelled just as fine. He almost sighed, but stopped himself short. He was not a love-sick puppy, he told himself; maybe just an interested one.

* * *

Anne set aside her painting with a groan of frustration. Surely she was not destined to be a famous artist. To her left, amongst the trees that lined the water, came the sound of voices. She lifted her head to see who it was and blushed afterwards for doing so. She had caught sight of Mary and Aubrey who, coming back from their walk, had paused beside a thick tree to embrace one another.

Anne ducked, spreading herself thin against the grass to avoid being seen. She was deeply embarrassed and strangely moved. What if she found herself a husband? Would he kiss her like that? She chuckled to think about it, imagining a prim Lady Catherine who had slept in a separate bed when she was married. How she was conceived never failed to stupefy Anne.

Lady Catherine's voice floated into her ears, a memory from long ago when Anne had her coming-out ball: "—and don't let anyone near you, my dear, else your reputation be ruined! Why, even married couples are never seen showing affection or kissing as you young people call it! 'Tis most scandalous to kiss one's spouse, even in private."

Anne laughed again, grabbing up her things and going back to the tent. The sudden splash of a droplet of rain on her arm told her they would soon head back to Pemberley.

* * *

Mary found herself clutched once more with someone's arms around her. Kitty's vicious grip around her middle cut more into her ribs than any corset could. No amount of shifting or moving eased the pressure, and she prayed they would get back to Pemberley soon.

The infrequent dribbles of rain turned steady, and Kitty shrieked. "It's raining!"

"Is it? I didn't notice, Miss Kitty," Mr. York said, his pitch-black horse drawing up beside Mary's mount.

"We shall fall off with the horse getting so wet," Kitty breathed quietly into Mary's ear. Aloud, she turned to Mr. York with a beaming smile, replying, "You jest, surely."

He bowed. "Of course."

"Do you enjoy getting wet, Mr. York?" she asked, eyebrows rising up prettily, noticing he'd divested of his cloak.

"Not usually, Miss Kitty," he replied, he tipped his hat and fell back a little with his horse, not quite behind them yet not there beside them either.

Kitty, finding him short of words and not at all droll, turned her thoughts to pleasanter venues, such as warm fires and scalding-hot tea. She wiggled in anticipation. "Would you stop that? Nobody's looking at you," Mary muttered.

Kitty frowned. "I could care less if no one ever looked at me," she pouted—and then straightened her spine as Mr. York appeared beside them again. She nodded primly at him, one of her hands bravely flying up to adjust the delightful bonnet ribbons tied underneath her chin.

"Changed your mind, did you?" Kitty pressed him, fluttering her long lashes.

He looked startled, and shook his head. He looked over at Mary until she was compelled to return his stare. "Good afternoon," she said to him in greeting.

He dipped his head in a shy return of pleasantries. "I wonder, might I speak with you once we return to Pemberley?"

She narrowed her eyes, thoughts flying back to Georgiana who rode just behind her. "Might I ask why, Mr. York?"

He blushed suddenly. "I suppose I could ask you now." Mary nodded encouragement. He leaned towards her and lowered his voice. "Are Miss Darcy's—are her feelings captured? I mean, has she a tendre for someone?"

Kitty overheard the question. "Of course not, Mr. York!" Spit from the eager girl's lips hit the back of Mary's neck, though she barely registered the fact seeing as it was pouring rain dreadfully. The sky, darkened by thunderclouds that seemed to reach astronomical heights, was lit up by a quick, violet flash of lightning.

"Shhh!" Mary scolded her younger sister over the sound of the return shot of thunder. She turned back to the young man. "Not that I am aware of, Sir."

"Fabulous. Could you, um, give her this for me?" he asked of Mary. She took the proffered note which was dampened by Mr. York's wet glove and slipped it into her reticule.

Kitty, catching a whiff of his cologne (for he had leaned quite closely to the girls), breathed deeply, closing her eyes and turning her nose to follow the man as he turned his horse round once more, mud spraying up from its hooves. "He has expensive taste," she observed. "Is he rich, do you know?"

"Not particularly," Mary told her younger sister, hoping her sister would lose interest. She could almost feel Kitty's face fall as the girl's shoulders slumped and rested her chin on Mary's shoulder. Rain trickled down her dress, collecting wetly onto her underclothing; she tried not to mind it, but she couldn't stop the shivers that crawled over her. It was just so wet!

The young women were ushered to the kitchen while fires in their rooms were being made up. The large stone hearth roared and crackled, logs shifting as they burned and turned to smoky piles of ash. Cups of warm cider were pressed into their wet hands as they waited. Though the season was far from being winter, the thought of one of the girls catching a dangerous head cold worried everyone. After all, just a few years ago Jane had suffered from a ride in the rain and was bedridden for days.

"I don't like cider," Kitty pouted. She morosely sipped from her cup, every now and then spitting back what she had swallowed so reluctantly.

"It's good for you," Jane pointed out, "and you need only drink that to satisfy our mother."

Anne yawned, held back a cough with her fist and looked behind her to see if her mother was lurking. She wasn't. "Wasn't that a most enjoyable outing?" she asked them all.

Mary smiled in return. "Supremely."

"It was going along just fine until it started _raining_," Kitty drawled from her side of the fire. Her cheeks were rosy from the heat and her hair began to curl wildly as it dried itself.

Elizabeth, sitting beside Jane, said, "If I remember correctly, we didn't tie you up to the horse and force you to come with us." Kitty stared hard at her elder sister and then rolled her eyes.

Georgiana had finished her cider quickly and was leaning beside the window, watching the rain wiggle down the glass. She pressed her brow to the cold pane, and then turned around. "I'll go to my room, if you all don't mind. I feel…tired."

Mary stood to follow her. "I hope you are not falling ill, Georgiana."

"Yes, well, I had best be careful then," Georgiana replied softly. "You need not come with me. I can manage on my own."

"Don't think on it," Mary quickly said in turn. "I have something to tell you by the by."

Georgiana nodded resolutely, preparing herself for the worst. They had arrived at her door, and when they entered the room the fire was already warming up and the servants had vanished. Mary shut the door behind her and grinned. "You see—," she began, stepping forward.

"I think I can guess at the nature of your sudden excitement," Georgiana cut in. She wrapped her fingers around the post of her bed and twitched her skirts with her other hand.

Mary paused. "Did he talk to you already, then?"

"Nooo."

"What is it then that you think I've come to tell you?"

"This Mr. York—well, I saw him with you while we were coming back home. I assumed you were just talking about, you know, nothing in particular, but then I saw him hand you something."

"Oh, this!" Mary cried. She fished it out of her habit's pocket. It was still damp and more worn than before, but it was legible enough. She held it out to Georgiana who immediately pushed it away with one trembling hand. "Is everything alright, Georgiana?"

"I am sure that a man's attentions are most flattering when they are directed towards you. I can understand the feeling—the sort of excitement one gets when one knows—or imagines—they are the object of someone's fascination. But don't you think one is enough? Isn't Aubrey good enough for you?" Georgiana looked everywhere but at Mary's face.

Mary froze. "Pardon me?" she asked.

"You heard me, Mary," her sister-in-law replied. Her hands had found their way to a tight hold on her elbows. "Aubrey is a very kind man. His affection for you is what you've always wanted. I can't imagine him hearing that you are exchanging notes with his friend—or what he'd do to the poor man. Remember his cousin, Miles!"

"But I'm not!" Mary laughed. She jabbed the note at the young woman. "This is not some clandestine missive, Georgiana—well, not for me anyway!"

Georgiana swallowed, eyes narrowing. "Give it to me then. I shall see for myself."

"If it were any other person calling me out in such a manner, I'd've planted tehm a facer," Mary told her half-seriously as she let the note slip from her fingertips into Georgiana's. "As you can see that is a note addressed to _you_."

Color rushed to the girl's embarrassed face. "This—it's from—the—him?" she brokenly asked her friend as she unfolded it and perused the contents.

"I swear on my honor as your closest sister by law and love that I did not read not one letter nor one punctuation mark on that paper," Mary avowed, crossing her heart emphatically. Georgiana was silent. "But, might I ask—dearest, closest friend—if I could read it?"

Mary was startled when the girl burst into tears. "I'm so sorry for what I said!" burbled Georgiana. She was encased in Mary's friendly, ever-forgiving embrace. They sat on the edge of her bed, upsetting the carefully placed pillows, but they hardly noticed for Georgiana plowed full steam ahead. She was eager to put in her word before Mary could utter one syllable.

"I convinced myself," she sniffed ashamedly, "green-eyed that I was, that the item given you was meant for your eyes only. I _never _considered it was meant for me."

"Though I am the best catch in Derbyshire," Mary funned, "Mr. York has had his thoughts only turned to you, my dear. As for Aubrey, he agrees with me."

"About what?" queried Georgiana curiously whilst drying her eyes.

"He was looking at you the entire time you danced with Mr. Pierson and the rest of that gaggle of men surrounding you last evening."

"I thought—I thought he didn't want to further an acquaintance with me because I was wealthy. You said so yourself."

"Never!" Mary denied, outraged. "However, I do remember telling you he asked about your fortune, and he looked disappointed because _I thought he felt he couldn't measure up to your other swains_."

"You said no such thing, Mary. Besides, I do not have swains. No one's affected me like Mr. Wick—at all, that is, not until Mr. York gave up his precious seat for me yesterday."

Mary measured her friend carefully with her eyes. "I at least intended to tell you that, but Aubrey hadn't arrived yet and I was being a worrywart."

Georgiana was flushed once more, her bloodshot eyes were nothing compared to the cloud of color spread over her face and to the tips of her ears. "Of course," she casually said. "Shall we go downstairs? I'm sure everyone has warmed up enough to venture out of their rooms. I know I have!"

She was forced to keep her seat by the sudden imprisoning hold of Mary's hands on her slumped shoulders. Mary looked intently at her. "Did you love him deeply?" she asked quietly.

Georgiana licked her lips. "I wouldn't say love. That is too strong a word to use. At the time I was in George's company all I could think of were his lips, his eyes—even the sound of him breathing! It was like he cast some sort of enchantment on me that made me vulnerable to his advances." She unconsciously touched her mouth. "I don't lay blame on him entirely, for I was ready to fall in love—and fall I did, but into obsession. _He_ was all I could think about, and not his kind ways or his mannerisms."

"Was he terribly handsome by then? When I saw him he was looking quite well."

"Last time I saw him he was, and I'm sure he still is. I fell in 'love' with his countenance, the way he tied his cravats, the shine of his boots and the fit of his coats to his broad shoulders. I'm ashamed to even say it!

"He acted the besotted suitor on the sly. We sent each other notes, and when I was left in Mrs. Younge's care he took advantage of the absence of my brother. Apparently he had known her quite well a couple of years back—how well, I can only guess. Suffice it to say, I nearly eloped to Scotland."

"That was his idea, of course," intoned Mary.

"Why yes it was," Georgiana told her.

"And I'm sure that's how he lured my sister to her current situation—a dissatisfied and poor wife of an immoral and unstable ex-militiaman."

"Indeed." The girls grasped hands mournfully and then gave each other a quick hug.

"Promise me you won't flee to Gretna Green with Mr. York," Mary pleaded to her friend. "Your brother would be livid, and I _think_ Lady Catherine would faint."

"Faint? She would decline rapidly after a sudden fit and never be seen in society again."

"Hmm," Mary wondered aloud, "for the better—sounds delightful."

"You can't imagine!" Georgiana cried. She stood up, arms flying up in exasperation. "I love Anne dearly, but the way her mother drones on and on about her accomplishments drives me to distraction. The woman is certainly queer in the upper story."

"If I think about it," Mary began seriously after a fit of giggles, "she is comparable to my mother in some ways. They both are desperate to marry off their aging daughters to wealthy, titled gentlemen. It is just that Lady Catherine takes it a step further with the fact that she is unpleasant, bitter and thoroughly invested in the belief that she contains all the wisdom of the world. It's as if she believes herself to be the Almighty God, and we are required to worship her. My mother, on the other hand, just wants the world to see how clever she is in getting her girls all married off in consecutive years."

"Perhaps we are too harsh," whispered Georgiana guiltily.

"Oh I know," Mary agreed. "Back before we even heard of Mr. Bingley and his fashionable London set I would never have dreamed of saying such things about anybody. My tongue's so loose these days, and I admit I've only been reading scriptures just at night now. I still find pleasure in the Word, but I made myself so stiff-spined with rhetoric and spouting bombastic nonsense that I was a prickly thorn to be around."

"You're neither thistle nor bramble to me, Mary."

"My thanks," Mary said bowing low over her knees, loosened hair tumbling away from her back and over her head to hang as a waterfall would over the edge of some cliff. Georgiana smiled at her friend's antics, and as she glanced down at Mary she noticed a thin chain around the girl's neck.

"What's that about your neck?" she asked innocently, knowing full well it was probably a gift from Aubrey. Her heart panged as the note from Mr. York burned at her from its place pressed hard into her palm.

Mary snapped upwards, face red from the rush of blood to her face; her fingers clutched the neck of her dress. It was her time to turn tomato-red. "It's an early wedding gift from Aubrey," she eventually told Georgiana. She drew the chain out from its hiding place within her dress. "It's a locket that his great grandmother, Isobel, was given from her husband-to-be."

"It's practically an antique," breathed Georgiana. She took hold of the locket and folded it open. "Is that her?"

Mary bent her head closer to Georgiana's to look at the miniature paintings inside. She pointed. "Yes, and that's her husband, Sebastian. He was French, if I remember correctly."

"He's very fine-looking," observed Georgiana. "He cuts quite the dash."

"Apparently Isobel was his second choice for marriage. He arranged it all so that his first love would be madly jealous and plead for him back; then he'd refuse her and marry Isobel instead. Of course, he did that in the end, but not for revenge but for the deepest of love and affection for her."

"And what happened to his first love?" Georgiana asked, wide-eyed at the tale.

"He didn't care to find out."

"Romantic," she sighed. "Men these days just write insincere poems and foolish sonnets. No one would have enough intellect to create such a mighty and romantic courtship."

"Except," Mary interrupted, "for Darcy, Aubrey, Mr. Bingley—."

Georgiana laughed, clapping her hand over Mary's mouth. "Shh. I'm just being foolish myself. You did, however, forget to mention Mr. York."

"You stopped me short. Besides I would have done so anyway. I would not have added Mr. Collins or Mr. Wickham to the list, though."

"I agree entirely with you on that."

The door to the room suddenly shuddered as a series of frantic knocks fell upon it. "Enter!" cried Georgiana over the racket just as the door opened to reveal a much-excited Kitty.

"You shall never guess where it is we are going!" she trilled, bouncing on her heels in excitement. "Guess!"

"Russia," Mary drawled.

"Not even close!" Kitty cried, and then a puzzled look crossed her delicate face. "Where is that anyway?"

"Never mind your sister, Kitty," Georgiana said. "Please, tell us."

The younger woman looked supremely pleased with herself as she stood silently for a moment, relishing in her newfound power.

"Let me guess," Mary said after the stillness stretched far too long for her liking, "London."

Kitty's mouth dropped open and she stamped her foot. "How did you guess? Was that your guess as well, Georgiana?" Her sister-in-law nodded apologetically.

"It was written on your face," Mary told her. Kitty sniffed pertly and flounced out of the room, forgetting, as usual, to shut the door as she made her exit, sails deflated and still quite soggy.

"Now," Mary said, turning to Georgiana, "how about a peek at that note?'


End file.
